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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24476122">All the King's Horses</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxesandmagic/pseuds/Foxesandmagic'>Foxesandmagic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Peaky Blinders Fanfiction - Piccola Rossa [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Peaky Blinders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:54:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>42,243</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24476122</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxesandmagic/pseuds/Foxesandmagic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started with a wedding, with a reminder that despite all the bad that has happened in their lives it’s possible for good to happen for the Shelby family. With Stan off at University, following his dreams and keeping away from the family business; with Hal thinking about the future; and with Luce not feeling the urge to run at every opportunity, it looks as though things might just be looking up for the Shelby family. But how long can good things really last?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hal Brandon and Cece Hawthorne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Peaky Blinders Fanfiction - Piccola Rossa [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1465801</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Luce couldn’t sit still, excitement and exhaustion warring away inside her. She’d spent half the night awake and talking to Stan, trying to catch up with everything that was new for him, learning about what his classes were like and all the new kinds of people he’d met while studying. It wasn’t that he hadn’t told her all of this already – they’d been writing to each other since he moved to London, and there’d been the occasional phone call – it was just those means of communication were nothing compared to having him there with her, seeing the way his eyes lit as he spoke or the way he picked idly at the stubble peeking through on his chin. She was eager to hear what he’d thought about the list of sights she’d given him, and if he’d managed to avoid the few places she’d told him adamantly not to go. She’d wanted desperately to have gone with him, but her own memories of the city, the ghosts that lingered there, had been the thing to prevent her from joining him.</p><p>In retrospect, however, the catch-up might have been better in the morning, or for when the party started.</p><p>Beside her, Michael lifted Karl to sit on the ledge of the pews as hymn sheets were handed out. Stan was on her other side, fiddling with his tie. The lines of weariness were obvious on his face, somehow more prominent now he was grinning at his brother.</p><p>‘You’re worse than he is,’ Michael noted, causing Luce to roll her eyes as Karl shifted to be in front of her. Instinctively she put one hand at the small of his back, the other on one side of him, to catch him if he unbalanced himself. Michael’s hand barely trailed after him.</p><p>‘And yet, still nowhere near as annoying as you are,’ she countered without looking at Michael.</p><p>He scoffed, but whatever irritable comment he might have countered with was lost. Her attention was distracted by Hal. He was fidgeting nearby, looking almost lost without Cece, who was acting as maid of honour to Grace, and with John trying to calm his own little family there was no one to make sure that the other man wasn’t completely alone in the sea of Shelbys.</p><p>Stan lent forwards, rested a calming hand on Hal’s shoulder and instantly drew his attention their way. ‘Your one’s next, right?’</p><p>Hal smirked over his shoulder and glanced between Stan and Luce. ‘Thought it was one of yous… or both of yous.’</p><p>Luce let out a sarcastic laugh, even as Stan’s face seemed to pale slightly and he withdrew his hand. The moment was short-lived, though. The chapel doors opened, and instantly all attention was drawn that way.</p><p>Jeremiah was the first one in, walking up the aisle to the sound of the small, and still utterly terrible, choir. The singing, thankfully, stopped when he was at the altar, when the Bridal March started. Grace followed on a moment later, and Luce felt her excitement mounting; she couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually been to a wedding. The veil was black, an oddly morbid look for the bride-to-be but one that Luce understood. Behind her, with a bright smile on her face, was Cecily Hawthorne, who’s attention found Hal in an instant. The smile deepened, and she offered him a brief nod, before winking at Luce and Stan. The sight of her alone appeared to ease a little of the tense line of Hal’s shoulders.</p><p>Once Grace was at the altar, Arthur and Cece a little set back from the couple, the room seemed to hold its breath. Tommy carefully lifted the veil. Grace’s smile was bright, it made Luce’s own smile grow, before they looked towards Jeremiah.</p><p>Luce cast a brief look to Stanley. There was a soft smile on his face, his eyes lit with a cheer that she’d grown used to. He was genuinely happy, glad to see that his brother finally got something good when the world had conspired against him for so long. Thomas Shelby may be a bad man sometimes, but he wasn’t the complete monster that he pretended to be; Luce had learnt that and still there were moments when it shocked her.</p><p>But even monsters deserved a moment of happiness, right?</p><p>‘Dearly beloved,’ said Jeremiah, his voice booming in the silence of the church; even the little ones appeared to be reverently quiet as soon as they heard him, ‘we are gathered here today to join together in holy matrimony Thomas Michael Shelby and Grace Helen Burgess.’</p><p>The rest of the words washed over Luce, her attention skittering around the church. How they’d managed to make the soldiers on the other side and the Shelbys hold up some kind of peace was a mystery to her. She knew none of them wanted to ruin the day, but it was still shocking that they were managing not to draw weapons on each other. There was, she had to admit, the odd irritable look, a feeling of tension in the air that was impossible to ignore, but they were holding out. They were allowing the couple their moment, refusing to ruin it for their loved ones.</p><p>She just hoped that it would continue to hold true when there was more alcohol supplied, when people weren’t trying to be on their best behaviour because of the chapel.</p><p>‘Do you, Thomas Michael Shelby, take Grace Helen Burgess to be your lawful wedded wife?’ asked Jeremiah, snapping Luce’s attention back towards him.</p><p>‘I do,’ vowed Tommy.</p><p>‘Do you, Grace Helen Burgess, solemnly swear to love, honour and obey till death do you part?’ asked Jeremiah.</p><p>‘I do,’ Grace said.</p><p>‘I now pronounce you husband and wife,’ said Jeremiah.</p><p>Tommy and Grace turned to face each other; Tommy took her face in his hands and kissed her in front of the congregation.</p><p>‘Go on, son!’ called Arthur as the church erupted into applause and cheering. Luce tried not to notice that Grace’s side of the church looked almost bored by the whole thing, disappointed even. In fact, the realisation only made her cheer louder as the newly married couple waved, grinning around the room. She encouraged Karl to cheer with her.</p><p>She might not be a Shelby, but there was no way she was letting anything ruin this day for the two of them. They deserved it after everything they’d been through.</p><p>***</p><p>Hal walked with his arm looped through Cece’s. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a smile as bright as hers before, even when she’d shown him the place where she’d grown up, when she’d introduced him to her parents over the summer. It was one of those milestones that John had kept bugging him about. It was in preparation for the final piece of Hal’s summer plan: a proposal.</p><p>Now, he tried to put thoughts of his own wedding from his mind. This was Tommy and Grace’s day. The family were alive with their own excitement, Arthur trying to rally everyone as they headed towards the house, as they prepared the celebrations for the newlyweds. Hal patted Arthur on the shoulder as he passed. After everything that had happened, he was glad to see that Arthur was still there, still trying to be the big brother to the others.</p><p>Stan and Luce looked tired, but still happy. Luce hadn’t looked so at ease since Stan left for university; even with the new job, the new confidence that America seemed to have given her, this was when she was truly happiest. Even if neither of them realised it, they were home for each other like nothing else could be. Hal made a mental note to catch up with Stan soon; there simply hadn’t been time between him arriving and the wedding.</p><p>The crowd cheered as Tommy and Grace kissed, as he helped her down from the carriage. Applause rose up through the ranks, and Hal could feel Cece practically bouncing at his side. John caught his eye, but Hal refused to look at him properly; he knew exactly what was going through his friend’s mind.</p><p>And then, they followed the newlyweds into the house.</p><p> </p><p>Inside it didn’t take long for the party to start. Hal could see the line between the two sides of the wedding, could see where Grace’s family ended and Tommy’s started. Not that he really cared. He watched as Cece happily integrated herself with Grace in the middle of a group, making sure that her new mark was made on the friendship they had. Music floated around the place, and Hal shifted his attention to find a familiar face.</p><p>Not that it took long. Luce was standing by the fireplace, playing idly with the stem of a wine glass. Stan stood beside her, hunched ever so slightly as the lack of sleep probably caught up with him. Michael lent on the fireplace, his attention on Luce who was talking animatedly about something. The barriers that had previously made her hold her tongue around the family had come down somewhere between America and Tommy’s job offer. The mere thought of that brought a smile to Hal’s face that he couldn’t prevent.</p><p>‘But why,’ Luce was asking as Hal moved over to them, as he shot Stan a quick wink of greeting, ‘do the women have to promise to “love and obey” and all the men have to do is accept that they’re getting married?’</p><p>‘I don’t know,’ said Stan, but Michael opened his mouth at the same time.</p><p>‘You give me any of your <em>bullshit</em>, Michael and so help me –’</p><p>‘Whatever happened to our dear sweet Luce?’ Hal jibed gently, instantly quelling her irritation.</p><p>‘Hal!’ she said, shifting to hug him.</p><p>‘See, we need you around again, Stan,’ Hal said as he pulled away. ‘Look what happens when she doesn’t have your guiding presence.’</p><p>Stanley chuckled softly, shook his head. His attention strayed ever so slightly to Michael, and Hal wasn’t sure if there was an undercurrent of blame there or not.</p><p>‘She has a point though,’ Cece said, causing Hal to look back at her. She was coming their way, two glasses in her hands. She passed him off one filled with juice before taking a sip of her own.</p><p>No one spoke for a moment, as if each of them were trying to figure out what to say that wouldn’t end in violence. Though, for Stan’s part he was probably just too tired to really care. Instead, he shifted and lent an elbow on Luce’s shoulder, settling himself.</p><p>‘Kitchen,’ Arthur said, clapping Hal on the back. He’d barely looked around when he noticed that Arthur was moving around the party, gathering the Peaky Blinders.</p><p>He glanced briefly at the Shelby men, noticed Cece’s expression darken out of the corner of his eye. She looked as though she were about to argue, but he gently gave her hand a squeeze.</p><p>‘Be back before you know it,’ he vowed, nodding towards Stan who straightened in an instant. Michael was already walking away, as if eager to move away from his new work partner and the argument that was beginning to brew.</p><p>Even as Hal and Stan walked towards the others, John pulled him in close to his side. ‘Yours gonna be half the size of this? All singing in fucking Welsh?’</p><p>Hal nudged his ribs gently, causing his friend to move away and drape an arm around Stan’s shoulders, assuring him that he didn’t have to be in on this particular family meeting. The taller man visibly relaxed and hastily extracted himself from his brother’s embrace. ‘Might be the only time you <em>don’t </em>feel the need to join in.’</p><p>‘He can sing even without knowing the words,’ teased Finn, earning a whack around the back of his head from John.</p><p>Hal shrugged, but the thought was one that had occurred to him. ‘Anyway, what’s this meeting about?’</p><p>‘Hell if I know,’ complained John, but there was little bitterness behind the admittance today. Which either meant he had an idea, or he was giving his brother a little more leeway given that it was all happening on his wedding day. ‘Just not the kind of thing Stan needs in on.’</p><p>Hal started down one corridor, but John pulled him back. ‘Don’t go wandering.’</p><p>‘Wait, that isn’t the way to the kitchen?’ Hal asked, looking back over his shoulder as John led him down a set of stairs. ‘Who the fuck needs a house this big anyway?’ The joke about compensation, one that Cece had muttered in the car, died on his lips as John picked up some oranges and began to juggle them, as Hal heard the hustle and bustle of a kitchen getting ready for a big meal.</p><p>‘Seriously, how the fuck did you drive from Wales and back again?’</p><p>‘I had a very good navigator,’ Hal assured him, causing John to mock being sick as they joined the family meeting. Tommy was already lighting up a cigarette.</p><p>‘Right, boys, you’re all here,’ noted Tommy once John had made his way across the room to be with Isaiah. Hal stayed by the wall, beside Michael who was smoking as well. ‘Today, this is my fucking wedding day.’</p><p>‘Yeah,’ noted John, ‘and you said there’d be no bloody uniforms.’</p><p>‘Nevertheless. Nevertheless, John,’ said Tommy, voice raised warningly. ‘Despite the bad blood, I’ll have none of it on my carpet. Now, for Grace’s sake, nothing will go wrong. Those bastards out there are her family. And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything to –’</p><p>‘Tom?’</p><p>‘What?’ snapped Tommy, his attention on Isaiah in an instant.</p><p>‘What about snow?’ For his credit, Isaiah didn’t flinch at the sudden irritable attention. Tommy had never been so stressed, even during the War.</p><p>‘Yeah, their women are sports, I’ll say that,’ noted John, clapping Isaiah around the head and bringing it down to rub it.</p><p>‘No. No. No,’ said Tommy, walking towards Isaiah. He got right in his face. ‘No cocaine. No cocaine. No sport. No telling fortunes.’ Tommy went around the room, pointing to each person as if it might somehow help stop them from doing just that. ‘No racing. No fucking sucking petrol out of their fucking cars.’ He grabbed Finn’s chin, slapped him on the cheek as if it might knock the words into his head. ‘And you, Charlie, stop spinning yarns about me, eh?’</p><p>‘I’m just trying to sell you to them, Tom,’ noted Charlie from his spot leaning on the cabinet.</p><p>‘But the main thing is, you bunch of fuckers,’ said Tommy after taking a deep breath as if to calm himself. ‘Despite the provocation from the cavalry, no fighting! Oi!’ He rounded on Isaiah, knocking his chin to force the younger man to look at him; he then moved to point at John, Arthur and Michael, repeating the comment as if it were some kind of mantra. ‘No fighting. No fucking fighting. No fighting. NO FUCKING FIGHTING! Good.’ He moved to collect his jacket, Hal stepped aside, knew that he hadn’t been included in that focused reminder because with Cece around the likelihood of him fighting was close to nil.</p><p>But as Tommy shrugged his jacket on, he knocked into one of the servants. The collision was small, but Tommy pushed him away forcefully. ‘Get the fuck off me!’</p><p>The man stumbled into the middle of the room, glass shattered against the floor. Hal winced ever so slightly. No fighting. It was an easier sentiment to say than to enforce with this family.</p><p>***</p><p>‘You seen that Lia lady again?’ Luce asked, trying to get Stan back into the conversation that had brought a smile to his face. His attention kept straying to the door where Hal had come back from, as if concerned that he hadn’t been part of the meeting. Now, his attention strayed around the room, as if trying to make sure that the Blinders were behaving. She wasn’t sure if it was more or less worrying that very few of them were there. Michael had already slunk off; John was helping Esme with the kids; Hal was carefully watching Cece as she chatted brightly with Grace. The only Blinders really making themselves known were Charlie – chatting away loudly with a bunch of soldiers, still trying to make Tommy look good – and Isaiah who was chatting to Finn, his attention sweeping the room occasionally.</p><p>A soft smile curled Stan’s lips, and his attention turned towards her. ‘We went for coffee the morning before I left,’ he admitted, and she could see the beginnings of a blush flushing his cheeks.</p><p>‘And you didn’t think to invite her here?’ she teased. They both knew there was no way Stan would bring someone into this. Even if he’d known her for a year. Even if, by the sounds of things, she would have been able to hold her own. There were some things that took more than a year to work up to. Introducing a possible romantic partner to the family? That wasn’t something to take lightly.</p><p>‘You going to come visit?’ Stan asked, his attention shifting away from her. He watched the path of someone, but Luce didn’t look around. The question itself was mundane enough, was normal even, but still… She’d exhumed those ghosts a long time ago, but still London held fears for her.</p><p>Chelmsford. That was the closest she’d been in the two years since she’d last seen her brother. In that time she’d had lunch with her mother and written a couple of letters to her father, but everything had changed. They no longer knew each other, no longer had anything to talk about. She’d vowed to call at the weekends, but so far there was no bridging the gap that Luce running away had caused. And there was no way she could talk to Wilf yet, not without being reminded of Epson.</p><p>‘Not yet,’ she said softly, before she noticed Isaiah coming up beside her. She shot him a small smile as he lent on the fireplace. ‘What’re you up to?’</p><p>‘Nothing,’ he said, holding his hands up in a gesture of innocence.</p><p>Luce shared a knowing look with Stan. Neither of them were willing to buy it. But also, neither of them really cared if it was family business.</p><p>‘You two actually going to join the party?’ he asked, cocking his head a little to one side.</p><p>‘This isn’t the party?’ Luce countered, looking shocked as she indicated between herself and Stan. Stan scoffed, and that was the only encouragement she needed to keep up with the façade. ‘Woah, maybe we should drive back home. Go find this mysterious party.’</p><p>Isaiah opened his mouth, probably to make some comment or another about the dark, or the alcohol, or the fact that she was still using his car, but a tinkling sound cut him off.</p><p>‘Dinner is served,’ a waiter announced.</p><p>‘Shall we?’ Isaiah asked, offering Luce out his arm.</p><p>Stan smirked, causing Luce to roll her eyes. She took his arm instead, but lopped her other through Stan’s and started toward the table, really hoping that she wasn’t going to end up sat with some solider that she’d be best placed to be civil to.</p><p>***</p><p>‘Hey, listen. Listen, listen,’ said John, and Stanley had to internally groan. He shared a quick look with Luce, and was glad that at least she was close by. ‘What do you call an animal with a prick halfway up its back?’</p><p>‘Not now, John,’ said Stan wearily, glad that he was far enough from his brother that he couldn’t quite hear the punchline.</p><p>‘Hey,’ Luce said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. ‘It’ll be all right.’</p><p>Stan opened his mouth, but his attention was drawn to the return of Arthur and Michael. They slipped back into their respective seats; instantly, Luce seemed to radiate mild irritation. Her mouth was set in a firm line that probably had everything to do with whatever business the others had been conducting. If she knew what they were up to, she didn’t say, and Stan wouldn’t ask. It obviously wasn’t family business per se, otherwise she wouldn’t have had a clue, but it certainly seemed to leave a sour expression on her face.</p><p>He gave her hand a squeeze, glad when she looked to him instead of focusing on whatever the others had been up to.</p><p>He was grateful when, sometime later, everyone raised their glasses at the arrival of Tommy and Grace.</p><p>‘And now, according to tradition,’ announced Tommy as everyone took up their seats once more, ‘my best man will say a few words.’</p><p>‘Go on!’ cheered on John as others clapped. ‘Here he goes! Go on, Arthur!’</p><p>Stanley shot a warm smile up the table towards his brother, hopeful that it might just help even if he didn’t see it.</p><p>‘I’d like to, erm…’ started Arthur nervously, standing up as Tommy sat, already lighting a cigarette. ‘I’m not one for speeches.’</p><p>‘Sing, then!’ suggested John.</p><p>Hal scoffed, and Stan was certain he kicked his best friend under the table. Not that it perturbed John in the slightest.</p><p>‘I will later, John,’ Arthur said, tone more subdued than Stan had ever heard before. His eyes were locked on his brother. Part of him wanted to get up there and do the whole thing for him, not that he would have fared much better but it would have been something. ‘But I do, er… I do have some words written down here –’ he reached to grab a stack of notes from his jacket pocket, which hung over the back of his chair ‘– on this piece of paper. This doesn’t include everything that I want to say…’</p><p>‘Arthur, just read what we wrote down, eh?’ Stan heard Tommy murmur. He felt Luce shift, knew that she was thinking about commenting and successfully biting her tongue.</p><p>‘I will. I will, mm-hmm,’ said Arthur, flattening the paper on the table. ‘But first… First a few words from the heart.’ Stan felt the atmosphere in the room shift, felt people already looking away, but he kept his attention resolutely on Arthur, on the head of the table in the hopes of assuring him that people were still listening, that people cared. ‘This man here, my brother, Tommy, helped me survive through some of the worst times.’</p><p>Tommy coughed loudly.</p><p>‘It’s a wedding, Arthur,’ heckled Michael, earning a sharp look from Luce which he ignored, ‘tell a joke.’</p><p>‘Yeah. Tell a joke,’ said Hal, a little more comfortingly.</p><p>‘What – what I’m trying to say is this,’ said Arthur, ignoring the comments entirely. ‘My – my brother, and the love of a good woman pulled me through that time. Now Tommy also has the love of a good woman. Her name’s Grace. Like the grace of the good Lord. And even though the circumstances of their union was tragic –’</p><p>‘Right,’ said Tommy, standing up and knocking the table. Stan jumped slightly, the moment broken. ‘Let’s… Arthur, let’s raise a toast, eh? To, er, love, to peace, to marriage.’</p><p>‘And to marriage,’ the room chorused, lifting their glasses. Stan glanced briefly at John, who was smirking over at Hal.</p><p>‘Well done, Arthur,’ said Stan, raising his voice to be heard despite how the words got caught slightly.</p><p>‘Beautiful speech,’ said John, though his voice seemed to lack some of the enthusiasm that Stan had been trying for. ‘Really nice.’</p><p>Arthur wasn’t paying any attention though. He pulled his jacket off the back of his chair and left the room, quickly followed by Linda and Tommy.</p><p>Stan was up in an instant, even as John was asking about the destination of the little trip. Tommy put a hand on his shoulder as they passed. ‘Stay here, brother,’ he said, before moving after the others.</p><p>Luce watched after Tommy for a moment, daggers barely hidden behind the look as Stan slowly sat back down. ‘He’ll be fine,’ she said, though there was a touch of doubt behind her voice. ‘And if not, well, you can talk to him after.’</p><p>Stan hummed a mild agreement, really hoping that Tommy might just be able to make amends for the way he’d dealt with it all.</p><p>***</p><p>Hal had seen the man coming a mile off. There was something almost predatory about him, something that made Hal grateful he was finally outside of the party, instead of in amongst all the people that Hal cared about. The thought of this man having been inside was one that sent a strange uneasiness down his back. He was just glad that Luce and Stan hadn’t decided to duck out, to spend a moment in the stables because it was all just that little bit too overwhelming for Stan indoors. He knew Luce was loving the party; knew that Cece was enjoying having the other woman there, and making sure that Grace was never frowning. But Stan? Stan didn’t like too many people; how he was coping at University, Hal would never know.</p><p>‘Go and watch the race, boys,’ he heard Tommy calling, and Hal shifted further into the darkness. He knew that Tommy wouldn’t need him, he was simply there as a precaution. He also knew that by sending his brothers away Tommy was making a show of trust.</p><p>Arthur said something else, but the reply was lost.</p><p>Hal didn’t see the others walking away, but he knew they were doing as Tommy said. They’d watch the race, make sure no one was going to miss the new groom. Make sure no one interrupted the business that had to be conducted.</p><p>Hal allowed his thoughts to drift though. They drifted to Stan, and how much he’d have preferred to be out here to stuck in the party; in fact, how he’d probably prefer to be anywhere rather than in there with the threat of family business looming over them despite the attempts not to make it that obvious. He thought of Luce trying to make sure that Stan’s thoughts never strayed too close to what the missing members of his family might be doing, all the while preparing whatever telling off she was bound to dish out to Michael – and probably Isaiah – when she saw them next. </p><p>And then, his thoughts drifted to Cece. He wanted to be inside, dancing with her. Wanted to hold her in his arms, to feel the peace of it being the two of them again. Their little trip to Wales had been perfect, and while he’d missed his friends, there had been something soothing about getting away from it all; about it being just the two of them for most of their time away. It wasn’t fair that there was still work to be done – how Grace would take this he had no idea.</p><p>The more time he spent away from Cece, the more his thoughts strayed to what happened next, oddly enough. Strayed to the conversation he’d had when they were in Wales. To the dialect that he was never going to wrap his head around. </p><p>He heard the knock on the wall as Tommy left, knew that he was to leave five minutes later; keeping an eye on the Russian. He’d get back to Cece and the wedding soon, but first there were other things to think about.</p><p>***</p><p> ‘Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom will now dance alone,’ said the man on stage, causing the room to erupt with cheers.</p><p>Luce toasted her glass to the two of them, felt the smile spread easily across her face. This moment, this second of pretending that they were normal, that the Peaky Blinders didn’t hover on the periphery of everything with their violence only a hair’s breadth from the surface, this was what they both deserved.</p><p>The music started as soon as the duo were in the middle, swaying in time with the beat of the swing. They were talking as they spun around; there was something about the tension in Grace’s shoulders, something she only recognised from working with her in the pub, that assured her they weren’t whispering sweet nothings to each other. </p><p>They kissed before the man on stage spoke again. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, you may now join.’</p><p>In an instant, Hal had taken Cece’s hand and was pulling her to the floor, a coy smile on his face that Luce had never seen before. He went undisturbed as the others Blinders left, another man moving to dance with Grace.</p><p>Luce spotted Isaiah on the other side of the room. He tilted his head slightly, questioning her, but she shook her own. There’d be plenty of time for dancing, especially with him. Instead, she turned her attention to Stan.</p><p>‘May I?’ he asked before she could say anything.</p><p>She beamed at him, offered him something of a curtsy. ‘Of course,’ she assured him in her most well-spoken tone.</p><p>He smirked before taking her hand and leading her to the floor with everyone else. She just hoped that this was the beginning of good things for Tommy and the Shelbys, that the marriage might make them finally strive more for the desire of legal business options. The things that they’d been wishing for since she’d known them at least.</p><p>But, deep down she had a feeling that it wouldn’t work out that way. She was just glad that Stan had got away from it all, and that the rot of that life might not tarnish the one he was trying to make for himself.</p><p>Even if it tried to touch him, she vowed to herself as they span around the floor that she would do whatever she could to protect him.</p><p>***</p><p>Mr. Hawthorne had been an imposing man. Hal knew it was something about the set of his shoulders, the firm line of his lips, that didn’t scream the jovial man Cece had always painted him to be. Hal knew that some of his reservations had come from his own childhood, from the hidden aspects of his father in the face of strangers and company. He knew that it was wrong to paint all fathers in the same terrible way that he’d seen his own father, that he’d seen Arthur Shelby Sr. in, and yet he couldn’t help his reservations from building. Still, he would never forget the grin, the way those eyes – so similar to Cece’s – had lit up when Hal asked if he could propose to Cecily when they were back home.</p><p>Mr. Hawthorne had pulled him in for a tight hug, made some joke about how it was time enough for the question to come. He’d given his blessing in a heartbeat, and the memory still made Hal’s heart soar.</p><p>However, now the moment was finally upon him, he’d never felt so nervous. His hands were clammy, his heart thundered in his chest, and he was worried that his mouth might not actually form the words. His life hadn’t been easy at the best of times, but right now he would have put up with any of his childhood fears above this.</p><p>Two days after Tommy’s wedding hadn’t been the day he’d really meant to do this, hadn’t wanted it to be so close to someone else’s big day. But it was special for Cece. It was the day her own parents had first met. A little bit of information that her father had imparted on him just before they’d left.</p><p>‘Henry, what are you doing?’ Cece asked, straightening from behind her bike. Her hair was a mess, there was oil streaked on her face, and the ghost of her smile lingered, even if now she was looking at him with some concern.</p><p>Unable to trust his voice just yet, Hal lifted the cup of tea that he’d made for her in an awkward kind of salute. It brought back the smile in an instant, and a little of his tensions slipped away.</p><p>‘Leave it on the sill, please,’ she said, before ducking back down. She hummed gently as she worked.</p><p>Hal was grateful that she wasn’t looking. His hands trembled as he put the cup on the side. Carefully, he slipped the little box from his pocket. The ring that Esme had helped him pick out wasn’t much, but it was very Cece. It wasn’t flash enough to get in the way of her work, but it was nice so that she could enjoy it.</p><p>‘Can you pass me that spanner, please?’</p><p>In an instant, Hal’s plan changed. He slipped the ring out of the box, carefully threaded it onto one curved side of the spanner and offered it out reverently to Cece.</p><p>It took her a moment to reach for the thing, her eyes still on the bike, still on trying to fix it. Her hand gripped the end with the ring, and she stilled before looking to him. Her brows pinched together in confusion, knowing that there was something different about the usually familiar tool.</p><p>Carefully, she unfurled her fingers and spotted the ring. Her mouth fell open in an almost comical “o” shape. Not that Hal was paying much attention to it. He was already on one knee beside her, his eyes skimming over her face, taking in every little nuance of her reaction, desperately hoping that this was the right thing to do.</p><p>‘Cecily Dianna Hawthorne<em>, a wnewch chi</em> –?<sup>1</sup>’</p><p>‘<em>Ydw</em>!<sup>2</sup>’ she said, not even letting him finish. ‘Yes.’ Tears welled in her eyes, something he only briefly saw before she was hugging him. She squeezed him before pulling away, before she kissed him.</p><p>When she finally pulled away fully there were tears rolling down her cheeks, but her eyes were bright and her smile wide.</p><p>‘Took your time,’ she teased as he eased the ring off the spanner and slid it over her finger, his own hands shaking with the movement.</p><p>‘Better late than never,’ he said, the weight in his chest gone. He felt as though he could fly, as if there was nothing that could ever ruin this for him. And, from the look on her face, he knew that Cece felt exactly the same, which was all that really mattered.</p><p> </p><ol>
<li>Will you -?</li>
<li>Yes!</li>
</ol>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter Two: More Than Blood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>‘You making sure I behave?’ Luce asked, only looking at Isaiah long enough to see him walking through the yard towards her. She busied herself with checking the engine of the car Charlie had for scraps. His mild lessons on the inner workings of cars had been invaluable. The perfect respite from working in the office with Michael. Now she was using those lessons in an attempt to distract herself from the meeting that was going on elsewhere in the yard; the meeting between Tommy and the priest he had all but told her to stay away from. Not that the warning had been necessary. She’d heard his too polite voice when he arrived, the order behind his words. She didn’t like him one bit. <br/>‘I ain’t watching you,’ Isaiah said, capturing her attention in an instant. He lent against a picnic bench, eyes on the cigarette he had just popped between his lips. ‘Arthur just wanted someone here early.’<br/>‘And Hal’s busy,’ she noted. She shot him an innocent smile when he glanced towards her.  ‘So you drew the short straw.’<br/>‘It’s not so bad,’ Isaiah said, jumping to sit on the top of the picnic bench. ‘Worse ways to waste the morning.’<br/>‘You think this’ll only last the morning?’ she asked incredulously. She scoffed, scrubbed her arm across her forehead as he shook out his match. He didn’t quite meet her eyes. ‘Something else is happening today.’ It was a statement, not a question. She cleaned her hands on an old rag, finally let her hair down. Still, Isaiah wasn’t meeting her eye, which meant it was nothing good. <br/>After a moment, Isaiah nodded, took a drag of his cigarette.<br/>‘E sei qui nel caso in cui parlo con gli Italiani.¬1¬ Or to get me to talk to them.’<br/>Isaiah looked at her sharply. For a moment she could see his conflict playing out on his face. She shook her head dismissively. If Tommy wanted her to talk to the Italians, he’d have told her already; if he wanted her to have no part in it he’d have told Isaiah – or even Michael – to make sure that she was at the office. The fact that she was still in the yard either meant the Italians weren’t going to be there at all, or that he really didn’t care either way. <br/>‘Why’d you do all this?’ Isaiah asked once she’d settled on the bench. Absently, he offered her the cigarette, but she declined with a held up hand and shake of the head. <br/>‘Why’d you join a gang?’ she countered.<br/>He looked at her questioningly, a kind of accusation lingered behind his eyes. <br/>‘I’m not a Blinder,’ she reminded him firmly. ‘I just happen to work for the Shelbys.’<br/>‘And be best friends with a Shelby; still live in rooms they own; help – Hey!’<br/>Luce pushed his shoulder gently. He chuckled at her and she found herself begrudgingly laughing with him. <br/>After a moment, she calmed. ‘I didn’t join a gang, Isaiah.’<br/>Following her lead, he quickly became serious too. ‘I know,’ he assured her, a small smirk curling his lips before he jumped up. ‘Right, I’ve got stuff to do.’ He put the cigarette out in the damp mud. ‘You gonna stay out of trouble?’<br/>She made a show of glancing at her watch. ‘It’s before lunch, so I might be able to,’ she assured him, smirking as he rolled his eyes. <br/>Luce waved briefly before he sauntered off, leaving her to wonder just what exactly the Peaky Blinders were planning next, and why Tommy was having a somewhat clandestine meeting with a priest in Charlie’s yard. <br/>***<br/>Hal glanced briefly at Curly, who seemed to be more excitable than the meeting possibly deemed necessary. Oddly, the mood brought a small smile to Hal’s face as he shifted a little closer to the fire. For some reason, the afternoon chill was finally getting to him. He watched, however, as Finn and Isaiah brought the other people to the meeting. John was sat at the table, Arthur hovering like some sort of tea maid. <br/>A smirk lifted Hal’s lips, but he smothered it quickly, scowling at the new arrivals as they stepped over horse shit and stood opposite John. <br/>‘You asked for a meeting out in the open,’ Arthur said. ‘Fresh air and the fine aroma of shit.’ Finn and John scoffed; oddly, Isiah managed to keep a straight face, his attention on the Italians as if he were trying to figure something out. ‘“Neutral ground,” you said.’<br/>‘This is hardly neutral ground,’ said Changretta simply. There was very little accent there, and Hal was glad that no one had thought to get Luce involved in case they decided to speak Italian, just to hide something. <br/>‘Well,’ said Arthur simply, moving to sit beside John, ‘it’s what you’ve got. So, por favivo, sit down.’<br/>‘Where is Thomas?’<br/>‘He got called away,’ said John. <br/>‘He said he’d be here,’ snapped Changretta.<br/>‘Yeah, he’s busy,’ insisted Arthur. Hal shifted slightly, his attention skimming across the men that Changretta had brought with him. They were unarmed, the others had made sure of it, but Hal knew that didn’t necessarily mean they were less dangerous. <br/>‘I just told you he got called away. What do you want?’ said John, irritation colouring his voice. <br/>Changretta scanned the yard for a moment, as if taking a deep breath, before he spoke. ‘There was been a peace between the Peaky Blinders and the Changretta family for two years now –’<br/>‘Do you want tea or not?’ interrupted John. ‘Here, Finn, pour the Italians some English tea. Go on.’ <br/>‘We don’t want fucking tea!’ snapped Changretta as Finn moved to do just that. He moodily put the cup back on the table and moved away. ‘We want an explanation.’<br/>‘Well, I’ll have fucking tea,’ said Arthur, moving to pour some. He glanced back at Hal. ‘Want some?’<br/>Hal didn’t take his eyes off Changretta but shook his head ever so slightly. <br/>‘Explanation for what?’ asked John, almost bored by the whole thing. <br/>‘The Little Venice restaurant in Forge Street was burnt down…’<br/>‘Na, no, couldn’t have been us. We was at a wedding,’ John said quickly. <br/>‘You burnt it down to stop my son being at that same wedding,’ Changretta said, unperturbed. <br/>‘Yeah, he wasn’t missed,’ Arthur said into his teacup. <br/>John scoffed. <br/>Changretta laughed, but there was no real humour behind the sound. In fact, it set Hal’s nerves on edge. ‘You are such big boys now,’ he said, his attention skimming over to Hal as well. ‘When once you borrowed clothes from us to look like men.’<br/>‘How’s the tea, Arthur? Is it…?’<br/>Arthur threw it on the floor near the Italians. ‘It’s cold.’<br/>‘Please tell Tommy that we pay him whatever he asks us to pay,’ Changretta said, and Hal knew he was too old to play these games. ‘We stay out of the city and off the tracks. But you tell him from me that my son will walk with any woman in this city. Any woman he chooses. Even if that woman works for the Emperor, Thomas Shelby. My son is in love –’<br/>John sniggered. ‘Sorry,’ he said, pulling his cap lower over his face. ‘Do excuse me. Carry on.’<br/>Changretta lent further forwards on the table, his black gloves stark against the white tablecloth. ‘And if he wishes, he will walk with the woman he loves.’<br/>‘OK,’ said John, rubbing his nose in an old irritable gesture that Hal recognised in an instant. He lent forwards to pour himself some tea. ‘Y’know, it’d be hard for your son to walk anywhere with a bullet in each knee, wouldn’t it?’<br/>Changretta was quiet for a moment before he pointed to John. ‘Too much. You said too much, my friend,’ he said before starting to walk away. But he changed his mind and turned back to them. ‘Sabini says, “Suck and swallow.” But no. Too much. I spit.’ He spat on the floor before storming away, murmuring Italian that sounded like curses or threats as one of his men followed him away, and the other stayed to destroy a chair. <br/>Hal watched, not really paying attention to what was being said. Had they really just started another war with the Italians? And where, this time, would that leave Luce? He didn’t think she had any links to them, but her links to Sabini might not be so easy to brush aside this time. <br/>‘Hal,’ said Arthur as he passed, earning attention in an instant. He nodded the way he was walking, and with a brief look to John, Hal obliged. <br/>***<br/>London was a bustling city and still there were moments where it shocked Stan. He’d grown up used to the industrial, used to people toing and froing from work. He was used to people crossing the street to avoid him in case they accidentally did something he might not like. But in London he was oddly invisible. People bustled passed him, only glancing at him to either smile politely or so that they could actively avoid catching his eye. <br/>‘You are such a tourist,’ Lia said, snapping Stan’s attention away from his surveying of the street. There was a small, almost challenging smile on her lips. The harshness of her reactions hadn’t faded much over the year he’d known her for, but they had softened so he felt less hurt by her comments. <br/>‘It’s never the same,’ he defended, sticking his hands firmly in his pockets and focusing straight ahead. <br/>‘Buildings, people, sidewalk. Same,’ she said simply, scraping her blonde hair into a ponytail. <br/>Stan chuckled, shook his head disbelievingly. Lia’s complete dismissal of all things outside of her studies was something that he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. Previously, when he’d tried to broach the subject, she’d reminded him that not everyone was born with the privileges that simply being a male had afforded him. <br/>‘No,’ he countered, but he was cut off from arguing further by a hulking figure walking towards them. The man was broad, reasonably tall and yet seemed to be curled in on himself slightly. His mismatched eyes darted around the street, looking for the next thing that was going to jump out at him. To attack. His blond hair was even more dishevelled than the last time Stan had seen him. <br/>Wilfred Turner stopped a few steps ahead of them, his attention distracted by the arts and crafts shop window rather than the duo he’d been walking straight for. <br/>‘Stanley?’ Lia’s voice was soft, a hand gently on the sleeve of his jacket, plucking at it as if it might draw his attention quicker than her question. <br/>Stan swallowed the lump in his throat, caught between going to talk to the man and completely ignoring him. What did you say to the man who had tried to kidnap your best friend – his sister? <br/>‘Come on,’ Aurellia said, pulling at his sleeve a little more forcefully this time, encouraging him to follow her. ‘We’ve got time for a coffee before I’ve got class. You can remind me how different things are.’<br/>Stan hummed a reply, but he couldn’t stop himself from looking over his shoulder. Wilf was skulking down the street away from them. Stan wondered if perhaps he should call Luce, let her know that her brother seemed to be OK. But he dismissed the thought. Luce hadn’t been back to London since she’d washed her hands of her brother. He didn’t want to give her hope when it might be wrong. But, he made a mental note to try talking to Wilf for himself, to figure out if there was anything he could do to help Luce. <br/>***<br/>‘You’re like a magpie,’ Hal said, passing Cece a cup of tea before plonking himself down onto the sofa beside her. Whenever he entered the room, he could have sworn that she was looking at the ring, shifted it in the light as if she couldn’t quite believe that it was really there. <br/>Cece scoffed, tapped a beat out against her mug with the ring. <br/>‘Luce or Esme?’ she asked as she stilled her finger and turned her full attention towards him. Her blue eyes were filled with an amusement that Hal hadn’t had the time to appreciate. Between worrying about Stan and Luce, being backup for the Shelby brothers, he felt as though he hadn’t really had much time to just sit. To take a break – least of all when Cece’s own schedule was free as well. <br/>‘Was it a surprise?’ he countered, feeling the smirk pulling at his lips as he draped an arm over the back of the sofa so as to look at her more face-on. <br/>With a laugh, she shook her head as if she couldn’t believe the suggestion he’d just made. ‘Do you know how I know you didn’t find it yourself?’<br/>‘It was pretty?’<br/>Cece carefully put her mug on the coffee table and closed the distance between the two of them. She placed a hand on his knee to keep herself balanced. ‘You’d have put it on a chain so I didn’t lose it while I was working,’ she assured him, before gently pressing a kiss to his lips. <br/>Instinctively, Hal’s hand found the small of her back. He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss as her other hand gripped the back of the sofa. <br/>The telephone ringing brought their moment to a screeching halt. Cece pulled away in an instant, and Hal was on his feet. <br/>He rattled off their number once he’d picked up the receiver. Or at least, he started to. Polly was already talking over him. <br/>‘Is John there?’<br/>‘No,’ Hal said, already feeling as though ice were running through his veins. ‘Pol, what’s happened?’<br/>Behind him, he heard Cece pick up her mug and take a noisy sip. A reminder that there were things outside of the Peaky Blinders to think about. A reminder that he had his own life to live beside looking out for the Shelbys. Even John. <br/>Polly let out a string of curses, and Hal could practically picture her pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation. ‘Find him. I think he’s going to go after Angel.’<br/>‘Fuck,’ Hal cursed, gently kneading his forehead with the knuckles of his free hand. <br/>Cece fell silent behind him, and he made a mental note to apologise to her. <br/>‘He hasn’t been to see you?’<br/>‘No,’ said Hal, but he already knew why. Because he’d be the one to talk some sense into John, remind him that whatever action he took against the Italians wasn’t a good idea. Right now, the Shelbys had the power. All that could change in an instant. The downtrodden had a way of fighting back that was always underestimated. The others could remind John of that fact until they were blue in the face, but it was the understanding Hal had of that moment, the moment when the balance changed, that tended to get through to him. ‘I’ll find him.’<br/>‘Stop him,’ Polly insisted.<br/>Hal didn’t agree or disagree to the vague order, merely hummed a noncommittal response before hanging up. <br/>‘Work calls?’ Cece asked as he turned to face her. He could see the mild look of disappointment behind her eyes, felt his own disappointment unfurling inside his chest. One day. One afternoon even to properly celebrate the fact that she’d said yes before he was needed, was it really too much to ask?<br/>‘I’ll be back,’ he vowed, bending to kiss her softly on the forehead. <br/>‘You better be,’ she called after him as he hurried out of the house, really hoping that he’d be able to stop John before he did something that he couldn’t take back. <br/>***<br/>Luce walked the last few paces to the office with her eyes closed. There was something relaxing about blocking it all out, focusing on the sounds of the people bustling around her. She could be anywhere, in any city. With only the noise to tell her that there were others surrounding her, she could pretend that she was back in America, exploring new places and learning new things. She could even pretend that she was back in London. <br/>She opened her eyes just before she reached the door to the office. Tommy had offered her a proper job, one that was more thought inducing than the cleaning in the Garrison. She’d taken it in the hopes that she might be able to do something, make something of herself beyond what people expected. Part of her, however, had taken it in the hopes that Tommy might not give the job to Stan. Despite how it was legitimate business, despite how it was only looking to the money that they made through legal means, Stanley had deserved the chance to live his own dream. If Tommy asked him to work with the family, he’d take it and ignore anything that he wanted. <br/>‘You going to stand out here all day?’ <br/>Michael’s voice snapped Luce’s thoughts to the present. He sauntered up the road towards her, a smirk pulling at his lips and the ever familiar arrogant air about him that instantly raised her hackles. <br/>‘I thought half the day and then a quarter of the evening,’ she countered, pushing the door open with a saccharine smile shot over her shoulder for good measure. <br/>‘Isaiah coming for lunch then?’<br/>‘Screw you,’ she shot back as she wound her way towards her office. ‘First teas on you.’<br/>‘Your turn, I’ve got a meeting.’<br/>Luce stopped partway to her desk and turned to face him. Michael was already shrugging his jacket off, carefully hanging it on the stand by the door. ‘What meeting?’<br/>Michael let out a dismissive chuckle. ‘It doesn’t matter.’<br/>‘So not business,’ she reasoned, shaking her head in disgust. <br/>‘You can always work somewhere else,’ Michael said simply. Nonetheless, he walked towards the fireplace and stoked it up in preparation for the kettle. <br/>‘And not try talking sense into whoever this “meeting” is with?’ She scoffed humourlessly. ‘You wish. Do you still have last week’s accounts book?’<br/>Michael sighed, straightened up from the fire and headed towards his own office. Already Luce could tell it was going to be one of those days. She just hoped Michael might have the decency to wait until she was out for an errand or something for his meeting to begin. <br/>***<br/>The room was filled with a tense air that Hal couldn’t quite stomach. So much had happened in such a short time. After times of what felt like peace, it was as though he were being pulled in too many different directions. John wasn’t happy, and Polly had already glared at Hal for his lack of preventing what had happened. But his friend had assured him he was just going to talk, that he should go and enjoy the rare day both he and Cece had off. In retrospect, he knew what John had planned and he simply hadn’t cared enough to stop him. John was a grown man, he could make his own decisions and deal with the consequences. <br/>‘All right, Finn,’ said Arthur as Finn and John entered. ‘Thanks for coming. Fuck off.’<br/>Tommy was already walking towards them, through the shop. ‘Finn, you can stay.’ He waved Finn back into the room before leaning against the door jamb. ‘Sit down, John. Sit down.’ John did just that, and Finn followed suit. ‘John, you cut Angel Changretta. Even though Arthur told you to apologise. Polly told you to compromise.’ Arthur made a sound of assent following each sentence. ‘You chose not to listen to Mr. Apologise or Mrs Compromise. You even ignored Mr. Think who told you to wait a day before buggering off to let you do just that. And now I’ve got an Italian walking around my back yard saying he’s going to kill my brother. So, what do we do, John? Do we apologise, or do we compromise?’<br/>John was silent, refusing to answer in case he implicated himself in something. <br/>‘Oh, it was just something John said as a joke,’ said Arthur, as if determined to fight his brother’s corner when it appeared he’d finally lost his voice. <br/>‘Yeah, but he’s your brother as well, Arthur,’ said Tommy, and there was the closest look to disbelief on his face that Tommy ever got. <br/>‘Yeah. And I didn’t want to start a war over something John said without meaning it,’ said Arthur, and Hal knew that he was fighting his own corner, explaining why none of them had done anything about the fact the Changrettas were threatening the Shelbys. <br/>‘So, should he apologise in Italian – I think Luce can help with that – or in English?’ asked Tommy, bitter humour creeping into his voice. ‘Or should we ask them which fucking language they’d prefer? I’m not clear.’<br/>‘You said,’ said Polly, moving to gently hold Arthur’s arm, ‘while this business was going on in London you wanted peace at home.’<br/>‘And the only way to guarantee peace is by making the prospect of war seem hopeless,’ said Tommy reasonably. ‘If you apologise once, you do it again and again and again. Like taking bricks out of the wall of your fucking house. Do you wanna bring the house down, Arthur?’<br/>Arthur made an irritable sound, as if he were about to fight. <br/>Hal tensed ever so slightly. The room shifted. They all knew where this was going. They were standing on the uneven edge of a precipice, waiting to tumble in. <br/>‘If you’re soft on rebellion, it’ll grow,’ said Tommy, irritation obvious behind his voice. <br/>‘Bloody “soft on rebellion,”’ spat Arthur in a low voice, standing up as if to rid himself of some excess anger. <br/>‘You did the right thing, John. Now we go on the offensive,’ said Tommy, causing Hal to look at him sharply. ‘We take two of the Changretta pubs. We take ‘em tonight. That’s it.’<br/>‘Oh, right,’ said Polly, irritation obvious behind her voice. ‘For Christ’s sake, why?’<br/>‘Hey?!’ asked Tommy, turning back from where he was walking away.<br/>‘Why?’ asked Hal, genuine confusion behind his voice. <br/>‘Why? Because we fucking can,’ shouted Tommy. ‘Because we fucking can, and if we can, we do. And if we lift our heel off their necks now, they’ll just come at us. Remember, these are the bastards that wanted Danny Whizz-Bang dead.’<br/>The only sound in the room, for a moment, was that of Arthur’s pacing by the fireplace. <br/>‘You’re getting soft, brother,’ said Tommy, the emotion slightly deflated from his voice. ‘Soft and weak. Save the Bible for Sundays, eh? Finn, I need to get to Hockley and then home. It’s been a long day.’<br/>Finn stood up, patted John on the shoulder and then slipped out of the room. <br/>Tommy never once took his eyes off Arthur. ‘You take the Wrexham, you take the Five Bells. You get ‘em signed over to us in the morning. You make sure the coppers stay away. Don’t use the fucking phones, all right? There’s someone listening.’ And then, he walked off. <br/>It wasn’t until Tommy’s footsteps were quieter that Arthur started out of the room as well. ‘Well done,’ he said bitterly to John. <br/>Hal stood for a moment before patting John gently on the back and following Arthur, knowing that Polly would deal with his best friend for the moment. He wanted nothing more than to go home, to pretend that he didn’t have to deal with the workings of the gang for a moment. And yet he knew that this day was far from over, that there was still work to do before he could properly relax. </p><p>It was raining; the water came down in sheets, made the darkness of the night seem to glitter. Hal hadn’t wanted to do this, hadn’t wanted to forgo going home to a nice warm house, and to Cece. But he had to do this. Tommy was right – in his own way – if they didn’t squash this little rebellion before it had the chance to grow, they’d never see the end of it. They’d be fighting a war on more than one front and that simply wouldn’t work out well for them. One night of violence to prevent a multitude more. It was the lesser of two evils, and kept the youngsters out of the fray. <br/>That didn’t mean that he was enjoying it. He hauled two more Italians out into the rain, pushed them towards the wall. He fiddled with the lip of his cap, making sure that the blades sewn in there glittered in the nearby firelight. Inside had been a disaster; a mess of flying fists and Arthur managing to control himself. Now, Arthur was away, letting the others get their hands dirty. Letting them pass on the message of the Shelbys. <br/>‘Arthur?’ Hal asked, gently patting his friend on the back. The older man was cleaning his hands, running them under a broken pipe so that there was a good flow of water. Behind them, Hal could still hear the sounds of the lads finishing up with business. <br/>There was no reply. Instead, Arthur started wandering off. Hal glanced over his shoulder at John, and Finn. <br/>‘Arthur?’ John tried, but he got just as little response. ‘C’mon,’ he said to the others, walking a little ahead of them, as if he might be able to catch up with Arthur. <br/>Finally, Arthur turned to them; started walking backwards.<br/>‘We’re going to the Garrison,’ John told him. <br/>‘No,’ said Arthur simply, holding his hands up as if in a gesture of peace, ‘I’m going home, John.’<br/>‘Go fuck yourself, Arthur,’ called John as his brother walked down the street, the other direction to them. ‘Yeah, fuck off.’<br/>Hal stood at the crossroads for a moment, knew that he should probably go with John. But he couldn’t. Not this time. <br/>‘I’ll catch you up,’ he vowed, his thoughts already swirling to a dark place; a need to make sure that there were no more horrors in his past. <br/>‘Hal?’ asked John, a little of the irritation he’d shown his brother lingered in his voice. <br/>‘Trust me,’ was all he said before walking briskly after Arthur, needing to know that he got home all right before he could think of anything else. <br/>***<br/>Luce glanced absently over her shoulder. It was strange, being in the stables without Stan, but she’d wanted to help. Grace had invited her to this little family moment, and yet there was no doubt in her mind that soon the whole thing would turn to business. Not the accounting, not the fact that she’d laid into Michael – though, she knew that there would be a comment on that eventually – but the business with the Italians. <br/>Still, she allowed herself a moment of peace; a moment to think that everything was normal. <br/>‘Charlie,’ she said, her voice pitched a little higher than normal, ‘what’s this?’ She beamed at the little boy toddling along, tried to ignore the looks of his parents. Charlie tottered quickly, almost stumbled but found himself caught by Tommy. He gripped his hand gently. <br/>‘Let’s not run before we can walk,’ Tommy said, and there was a flicker of the kinder tone, the softer voice she’d heard him use with Stan, with Finn. <br/>She shrugged before turning to walk with Grace. ‘So, this dinner – ’<br/>‘You are still coming, aren’t you?’<br/>‘Of course,’ Luce said, beaming at her old friend. It wasn’t until Grace was back that she realised just how much she’d missed the older woman. It felt like a lifetime ago they messed around in the Garrison, dancing with broom poles. ‘You’re not going to try getting me to dance with one of the stiffs there, are you?’<br/>Grace chuckled, and Luce spotted Tommy’s attention shift their way ever so slightly. He and Grace had needed this, this peace for them. <br/>‘I’m sure we could find a handsome suitor for you,’ Grace noted. ‘But, from what I hear you already have –’<br/>‘Which horse are we seeing again?’ Luce asked, her cheeks burning at the thought of Grace’s next words. She still wasn’t entirely sure what was happening between her and Isaiah; even Stan hadn’t been able to help, and Cece only commented about how sweet Luce was to most people – which helped none with figuring it all out. <br/>‘I thought they were all the same to you?’ Tommy teased gently. <br/>‘One time,’ she grumbled. ‘I got the wrong name one time.’<br/>Inside the stables, however, she stood back while the little family crowded around the horse. The strangeness of being there without Stan was more pronounced as she allowed themselves a moment as a family. There were no mumbled comments, lessons from her best friend as she looked at the horse, as she spotted the complete love for the animals behind his eyes. <br/>She excused herself, and instead perched on the edge of the water trough. Idly, she ran her hand through the water. The goldfish swam away, but quickly realised she meant them no harm. They crowded her slowly; she felt the odd sensation of one sucking her finger, testing it, before it moved away again, already thinking of something else. <br/>‘What’s in there?’ Tommy’s voice snapped her attention back to the present. Charlie was tottering towards her, Grace and Tommy a little behind. <br/>‘Hey,’ she greeted, putting her arms out to encourage the toddler over. He stumbled, grabbed her arm and used it to pull himself towards the water. He made an unintelligible sound – one she assumed was a comment about the fish – before he dove his hands into the water. ‘Maybe not so quick.’ She gently took his arms as the fish started coming back from the sudden attack. <br/>‘It’s all right,’ soothed Tommy, already slipping one glove from his hand. ‘You can stroke them.’<br/>Luce shifted away, moved to the other side of the trough as Tommy carefully put his hand in the water. He gently stroked the back of one fish. <br/>‘Go on,’ he encouraged Charlie as the little boy tottered further around the trough. <br/>Charlie’s attention lifted, momentarily, to his mother before he carefully copied what his father had done. <br/>The peace, however, didn’t last long. Once they were back inside the house, Grace putting Charlie down for his nap, Tommy called Luce to his office. She contemplated saying no, telling him that she was still on her half-day and she wouldn’t discuss business not in the office. But there was something about the coolness of his eyes, the way she thought she could practically see the cogs whirling to life in his brain, that made her remain silent. <br/>‘Do you know the name Changretta?’ he asked, getting a cigarette out and placing it between his lips. <br/>Luce leant further back in her seat. ‘You mean from in London, not here I’m guessing,’ she said, watching as Tommy let out a long breath of smoke; as the smoke curled in the air between them before dissipating. <br/>Tommy remained silent, his attention on her. There was no way he was going to confirm or deny what she’d just said. He was waiting for her to offer up the information willingly before he pressed. Another strange little Thomas Shelby test. <br/>She sighed. ‘Never heard the name in London,’ she admitted. ‘Only heard of it here because Michael was talking about Lizzie’s little friend before the wedding.’ She forced as much bitterness as she dared into the comment. She’d been livid with the men for making that choice, but held her tongue only so as not to ruin Grace’s big day. <br/>A slight incline of the head was the only acknowledgement Tommy gave her. He took a long drag of his cigarette before speaking, his words measured. ‘You speak Italian, and you have previous bar work –’ <br/>‘I also have red hair and a nickname to boot,’ Luce cut across him, leaning forwards in the seat. Her heart thundered against her chest. There was a line that she had hoped Tommy would never cross, things he wouldn’t ask because he knew where she stood in regards to the business that they did. He’d pushed too hard once before and it had only been Hal and Stan really that had stopped her from running away completely. <br/>Tommy’s eyes narrowed. He slowly exhaled a mouthful of smoke. She could practically see the new plan reforming behind his eyes. <br/>‘At the party, keep an ear out.’<br/>‘And if I hear any Italian I’ll make sure to tell the closest Blinder to me,’ she assured him before standing up. ‘Grace and I are baking cookies, want anything in them?’<br/>‘Chocolate for Charlie.’<br/>Luce offered him a slight smile. ‘Already on it,’ she assured him before leaving the room, really hoping that she hadn’t just made a grave mistake of her own.  <br/>***<br/>The living room was filled with laughter, and for a moment Hal remained in the kitchen. It was nice, having the house so full of life. He could vaguely hear Luce questioning Cece about the ring, about the kind of dress she was thinking of for the wedding itself. Cece’s replies were just as excitable, but she was trying to force Luce to think about more pressing matters, such as the function they were all meant to be getting ready for. She was doing a fine job of not announcing Stan would be there. It was a little thing, but it was a surprise Cece had insisted that they prepare. <br/>‘Sit still!’ Cece chastised lightly, the laughter behind her voice making false irritation seem completely pointless. <br/>Hal smirked, gave himself a little shake, and then entered the living room. There were clothes strewn everywhere, and if he hadn’t been down there when Cece was dropping them around the room he might have been worried. Shoes cluttered around the bottom of the coffee table, and there was soft music coming from the record player in the corner. Cece knelt on the sofa, with Luce sat on the floor in front of her. She was trying her best to put Luce’s hair in some kind of up-do, but the redhead kept shifting so she could get a better look at the ring. Kept bouncing with her own excitement at the prospect of a function. <br/>Luce’s attention shifted to Hal, and she moved away from Cece. Cece huffed, threw her arms up in mock annoyance before settling back against the sofa. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she accused. <br/>Hal scoffed, put a couple of glasses of juice on the table. ‘Would you have been able to keep it to yourself?’ He quirked an eyebrow at her, and she deflated slightly. <br/>‘I’d have tried,’ she reasoned, not quite looking at him. In her moment of stillness, Cece pounced, took the opportunity once again to try tacking a hairdo for Luce that she hadn’t quite worked out for herself yet. <br/>‘I know, fy annwyl2,’ Cece soothed, running the brush through Luce’s hair once more.<br/>‘Isn’t this more exciting? Hearing it from Cece?’ Hal reasoned before downing the last of his own drink. <br/>Luce surveyed him, weighing up the options, before she nodded and earned a slight groan from Cece. <br/>‘Exactly,’ he agreed, glancing briefly at his pocket watch. ‘I’ll see you there.’<br/>‘You’re not coming with us?’ Luce asked, confusion obvious behind her voice. <br/>Hal placed a quick kiss on Cece’s forehead, gave Luce’s shoulder a squeeze. ‘Got things to prepare,’ he said, earning a smirk from his fiancée. <br/>His heart fluttered slightly at the thought as he left the room. Cecily Hawthorne was his fiancée. But he shook the thoughts away and smiled. Stan and Pol’s train was meant to be arriving in ten minutes. That meant he had just enough time to pop in and see John before he picked them up. <br/>‘See you there. Try not to be late!’ he called over his shoulder before heading out into the street. Whatever comment Cece shot back at him was lost to the sound of the door slamming shut behind him. <br/>***<br/>Stan fiddled nervously with the bowtie that Polly had helped him to tie. He was glad that he was getting to do something nice with his family, that this was a positive step in the right direction. And yet, the thought of facing Luce, of not having done anything about having seen Wilf, plagued him. He wanted to say something, and yet he couldn’t find the right words either. <br/>‘Good to see you,’ Isaiah greeted, tapping Stan on the shoulder and almost sending him tumbling in shock. Luckily, Stanley managed to right himself without too much hassle and grinned sheepishly towards the other man. <br/>‘You too,’ he said, accepting a drink from a tray which passed quickly in front of him. <br/>‘So, how’s University and doctor things?’ There was a flicker of a smile on Isaiah’s lips, but genuine interest shone behind his eyes. How much of it was because of Stan’s own closeness to Luce, he couldn’t quite tell. <br/>Stan gulped down a mouthful of the champagne before he answered. ‘Well, thanks. How’s things here?’ He cringed slightly at the question, but was grateful when Isaiah merely shrugged. <br/>‘Same as ever,’ he announced. <br/>The sound of Luce’s laughter caught Stan’s attention. He tensed ever so slightly before looking towards her. She was entering the room with her arm looped through Cece’s. Both of them looked stunning, and in an instant Hal was beside them. He placed a kiss on Cece’s cheek before taking her free hand. Luce grinned at the two of them before excusing herself. She glanced idly around the room. <br/>Her gaze landed on Stan and a wide grin spread across her face. She lifted the front of her dress ever so slightly before hurrying over to him. <br/>‘Stanley!’ she greeted, pulling him in for a hug. <br/>Stan tried to keep his glass away from her dress, and was grateful when Isaiah plucked the drink from his hand so he could hug his best friend properly. ‘Good to see you.’<br/>‘You’d think you two hadn’t seen each other in years,’ teased Michael. <br/>‘You learn to look for the sanity when you’re surrounded by idiots,’ countered Luce as she pulled away from Stan. There was a slight smirk on her lips that relaxed him. Whatever barriers had previously stood up between her and Michael, preventing her from telling him what she thought, were long since gone; she’d been on her best behaviour at the wedding, but now she was just that little bit more relaxed. It was an oddly refreshing realisation for Stan. Perhaps it was the first step to them actually getting along. <br/>‘Hey,’ complained Isaiah, pouting as he handed Stan his drink back. <br/>Luce’s smirk deepened as she cast a sideways glance at Stan. <br/>‘Are they all like her in London?’ Isaiah asked, voice pitched mockingly close to a whisper. <br/>Stan’s grin deepened. ‘Not at all,’ he assured him. <br/>‘Thank God,’ noted Michael before he moved away from them again, distracted by someone else. <br/>Stan shook his head as he took another sip of drink. The people. That’s what was the hardest thing about being in London. He missed the people in Birmingham. He made himself a vow that he’d try to come back up more regularly, before he allowed himself to get fully lost in Luce’s excited ramblings of Hal and Cece’s news. <br/>***<br/>As the function had filled out, Luce eventually lost sight of Stan. There was still work to be done, and polite conversations to have with people alongside Michael. She did her best to keep an eye out for Stan though, and was grateful to see that most of the time he was either with Cece and Hal, Isaiah or even Polly. He’d drifted over to see Tommy at one point, and the rest of his brothers, and the smile that had curled his lips was enough to reassure her that he didn’t feel too overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people there. She made a mental note to make sure that he got to see at least one of the stabled horses before the night was out – even if only to make sure that he wasn’t missing out since living in London. <br/>A gong sounded, pulling Luce’s attention back to the function at hand. It sounded weak, and yet somehow cut through the low din of noise in the room. <br/>‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ a man called, and out the corner of her eye Luce spotted Stan and smirked, ‘the loyalty toast to His Majesty the King.’ <br/>‘The King,’ everyone else chorused, raising their glasses. Luce noted that neither John nor Michael did so. In fact, Michael whacked Finn around the back of the head when he started to applaud. <br/>‘Dinner is served,’ the caller continued. <br/>Luce heaved a sigh and made a beeline for Stan. When she was beside him, she looped her arm through his. ‘Is it just me who really isn’t feeling this?’ she asked as they allowed the throng of people to move around them. <br/>Stan chuckled softly, but she felt the vibration of it through him. ‘You don’t want a party for once?’<br/>She shook her head. ‘Right now? Give me Charlie’s Yard over this.’<br/>‘You are something else.’<br/>‘Nope, just Lucinda Turner: Londoner in Birmingham.’<br/>‘Partner accountant.’<br/>‘Red haired wonder.’<br/>‘Are you two eating or standing here?’ teased Polly, coming up beside them. In her gown she looked beautiful, and Luce bit her tongue knowing the woman had heard it murmured from her enough already. <br/>‘I thought there’d be hors d’ourves,’ she said, a small smirk pulling at the corner of her lips. <br/>Polly opened her mouth to say something – an amusement glinting behind her eyes assured Luce that even if it was cold, the teasing would be there. But someone brushed harshly past Luce. <br/>She rounded, felt Stan moving with her. But then she caught sight of the gun. <br/> ‘For Angel!’ he yelled. <br/>The world was running in slow motion. The gun fired. Someone barrelled into the shooter. Another person flew after them. Someone yelled, calling familiar names that were drowned out in the chaos. In the screams.<br/>But Luce had seen far worse. She was back to action a second later. She rushed towards Tommy. Towards Grace as he eased her gently onto the floor. <br/>‘Get a fucking ambulance now!’ Tommy yelled as Luce collapsed on the floor, as she reached for Grace’s free hand, trying to cling to her. To help her cling on. Deep down, however, she knew that it was a losing battle. She’d seen death, seen it when the zeppelins attacked London. It was a look she’d never forget. <br/>Grace gently moved her hand, and Luce allowed her to hold Tommy. She looked around instead, trying to fight the tears that were already filling in her eyes. She saw the brothers, and Hal, beating up the shooter. Cece was hugging herself, her attention resolutely not on Hal. There was a darkness to her face. Polly was there and gone in an instant, running with her dress billowing after her. <br/>***<br/>Stan stood frozen as the room around him heaved with activity. People were screaming; Tommy yelled for an ambulance. Part of Stan wanted nothing more than to intervene. Even with the growing pool of blood blossoming around both Grace and Tommy; around Luce as she skidded to a halt beside her friend. The blood was a condemning sentence of its own though. <br/>All his training screamed at him to use it. And yet he couldn’t move. He was rooted to the spot, trying to make sense of it all. <br/>‘Stan!’ <br/>Isaiah’s voice barely made it through to him. He gripped the back of Stan’s neck and stood directly in front of him, as if to block the scene from him but not quite managing to complete hide the horror. There was panic behind his eyes, and all Stan could do was nod towards where Tommy was, where Luce had retreated a couple of paces. She looked on at the scene pale faced and as if she wasn’t really seeing it. <br/>‘There’s – I can’t…’ he stammered, but Isaiah gave the back of his neck a firm squeeze. His other hand patted Stan’s cheek once, twice a little harder than was probably necessary.<br/>‘They need family, not doctors,’ was all he said. Regret filled his voice. They already knew that it was probably too late. There was too much blood. The intention had been there, and it had succeeded. <br/>Still, Stan was determined to try whatever he could. All his training at University couldn’t be for nothing. Nights revising with Lia couldn’t have been for nothing. What was the point if he couldn’t even save one of his family?<br/>He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. He could do this. It was just one foot in front of the other. His brother needed him. He could do it. He had to, not just for Tommy, for himself, but for Grace too. It was the least he could do. <br/>So he did it. Even as his breath hitched, as cold ran over his skin, Stan walked towards Tommy and Grace, determined to do whatever he could to help.</p><p>1.	And you’re here in case I speak with the Italians.<br/>2.	My dear.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter Three: Business Resumes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stan watched as Luce encouraged Charlie to hit a wooden spoon against the empty water trough. The cold bite of the air, the gentle whinnying of the horses, wasn’t enough to drown out everything that had happened though. Still, Luce was doing her best to make sure that Charlie wasn’t left alone for too long. Mary looked after him when she could, and occasionally Ada came to make sure that Luce had a break, but otherwise Luce’s time was spent with the toddler. No one had argued so far, knowing that it was good for the both of them. Not even Tommy had made a comment about it.</p><p>Most of the time Stan tried to be with her, to give his own thoughts a break. There’d been nothing that he could do. Not through lack of trying though. All his training had evaporated until he was beside Grace. But even he’d known that it was too late. The ambulances would come, but the shot had been too well aimed. </p><p>‘Luce?’ he asked softly moving to perch on the edge of the trough. She looked up at him quickly, and he could see the lingering redness to her eyes. She was sticking with Charlie as a reminder of Grace, a reminder of the friend she’d lost. ‘Maybe we should go inside.’</p><p>Luce wetted her lips, glanced to Charlie and shot him a  small smile as he gently patted her knee with the wooden stick. ‘All right baby,’ she said softly, gently taking the spoon and tapping a nervous tune on the trough beside her. ‘Didn’t you want to see…’ Her voice faded, and he knew exactly which horse she’d been thinking about. She shook her head, as if to dispel the grief somehow. ‘Any of the horses?’</p><p>Her little blip had broken Stan’s heart, but he forced himself to rally. ‘You two coming as well?’ He waved his hand to Charlie, who caught his fingers and tugged at them.</p><p>For a moment, Luce was silent. She opened her mouth to reply but Michael’s voice cut her off.</p><p>‘Lucinda?’</p><p>Her attention went to him in an instant, and Stan looked over as well. He was marching towards them, hands in his pockets. The firm set of his mouth assured Stanley that this wasn’t a social visit, wasn’t him trying to check in with his partner or anything like that. Not that that was exactly where their relationship was by any means either.</p><p>Instinctively, Stan stood up. He didn’t know what to say, but he wanted to say something. Wanted to encourage Michael to leave her be.</p><p>‘Tommy wants to see us,’ was all he said before getting a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. He shook one out, lit it, and then oddly offered the matches out to Luce.</p><p>She didn’t even blink as she took one, lit it and focused on the flickering flame for a moment. Still, she held it up out of Charlie’s way.</p><p>‘Know what it’s about?’ she asked.</p><p>Michael shook his head as he took a drag of his cigarette. ‘Just that he wants us there now.’</p><p>Luce heaved a sigh as she shook out the match. Stan knew that she’d rather stay here, rather spend time with him and Charlie. But getting back to normal was something she needed as well.</p><p>‘We’ll be in soon,’ Stanley assured her as Charlie let go of his fingers and reached for the spoon from Luce once more.</p><p>She let it go willingly, ruffled Charlie’s hair and then followed Michael.</p><p>Stan watched her retreating back, and knew that she was trying her best to get things back to normal. He’d seen her pick herself up after worse than this, and he knew that she’d be able to do the same this time as well. Still, that did very little to quell his worries about her.</p><p>***</p><p>Luce couldn’t sit still. She wasn’t great at it in general, sitting in the office made her restless; the numbers and thought involved in all that barely helped. It also didn’t help that she wanted nothing more than to be outside, to be in the stables with Stan and Charlie, making the most of the time off that the former had before he had to return to London. Because he would return to London. It didn’t matter how much time his University gave him to grieve – if they were actually sanctioning this time at all – he had to go back. But now, sat opposite Tommy who was grieving and yet not letting himself grieve all at once, she felt like running all over again.</p><p>Michael cut her a look, she felt the harshness of his attention on her skin but she didn’t cease her movements. It was only when Polly rested a hand on her knee, when she gave it a brief squeeze, that Luce forced herself still; forced herself to pay attention to the meeting, the business rather than the emotions loaded in the room.</p><p>Sunlight streamed in from the two windows either side of Tommy, only accentuating how corpse-like he looked. ‘How are the books?’ he asked, not bothering to look up from the writing he was doing.</p><p>A pregnant pause filled the air before Polly finally answered. ‘Unaffected.’</p><p>‘Up slightly,’ added Michael, infusing his voice with a little more optimism than seemed necessary, than seemed proper.</p><p>‘Donations too,’ said Luce, fiddling idly with the hem of her shirt.</p><p>Michael made a sound of assent. ‘Three-fold increase to the Shelby Foundation charity. The council have suggested naming the new school the Grace Shelby Institute.’</p><p>Tommy firmly extinguished his cigarette in the ash tray, a little more rigorously than was strictly necessary. He cleared his throat, moved his pen. They were the movements of a man still trying to keep other thoughts at bay. ‘Tell the council the name Grace Shelby Institute is acceptable to us.’ He sniffed, folded the letter that he’d been writing.</p><p>Michael cut a look across to his mother, Luce saw it but her attention remained on Tommy.</p><p>‘This,’ he said, not looking at any of them, ‘is a list of the other things I want doing.’ He passed the letter off to Polly. ‘That’s all.’ His dismissal wasn’t even deigned a look.</p><p>Michael stood, cleared his throat. Luce remained seated for a moment, felt Polly staying beside her. There were so many things she wanted to say; reassurances that would simply be flowery words, things that wouldn’t help – though, they might’ve helped her, that wasn’t the point. She stood, moved towards Michael. They might not have got along, but for once there was an odd kind of comfort in the blankness of his reaction.</p><p>‘Tommy,’ said Polly softly as she stood.</p><p>‘That’s all, Pol,’ Tommy dismissed.</p><p>‘Come on, Luce,’ Michael said, ushering her closer to the door from his spot by the bookcase.</p><p>A crashing from inside. She turned back sharply, but Polly was standing in the doorway, sadness etched into her expression.</p><p>‘And well done, all of ya,’ she heard Tommy say before the others followed her out.</p><p>***</p><p>Luce was, Hal realised, as white as a sheet. Even from his place near the fire, even as she tried to keep her usual buoyant self, he could see the toll the meeting had had on her. Knew that it was killing her to see anyone like this, even Thomas Shelby. Her own grief was something that she could cope with, but not that of others who wouldn’t accept help.</p><p>‘Right, let’s go,’ said Arthur, allowing his poker to clatter to the floor as the others reached them.</p><p>‘Erm, we’ve already seen him,’ Polly said.</p><p>Slowly, all attention shifted to Ada, who had been preparing tea. For a moment, Hal allowed his attention to linger on Luce. There was a flicker of sorrow behind her expression, the slight dulling of her eyes. Whatever had happened in their meeting, it was plaguing her thoughts despite any attempts to refuse it that kind of power.</p><p>‘He wanted to see people in a particular order,’ admitted Ada.</p><p>‘I can normally read him,’ said Polly, almost as way of an explanation, ‘but he’s difficult to read.’</p><p>Hal tracked Michael’s path around John’s seat; watched as Luce left them to it, shoulders set and a slight bounce to her step. Once again, she was going back to Charlie.</p><p>‘So, be careful,’ warned Polly, snapping Hal back to the task at hand.</p><p>‘I thought it was a fucking family meeting,’ complained John, and Hal was a little grateful he hadn’t shot a hard look towards Luce’s retreating back.</p><p>‘Yeah,’ murmured Arthur as way of agreement.</p><p>‘All of us together, I thought.’</p><p>‘John,’ soothed Hal, but his friend appeared to be having none of it. When Martha had died, John couldn’t stand being alone. He’d needed everyone rallied around him, as if it might block out the hurt. He’d needed noise and a constant reminder that the others in his life were safe. But Tommy wasn’t like that. And the circumstances were different.</p><p>‘John,’ said Polly, resting a hand on his shoulder, ‘he’s grieving. To see everyone together would be too much.’</p><p>John smacked her hand aside, and Polly didn’t even seem bothered.</p><p>‘Yeah, well. Come on, you two,’ said Arthur, starting towards the door. He patted his brother on the back.</p><p>Hal remained where he was, watching the disbelief turn to something almost like disgust on John’s face.</p><p>‘Arthur, we need him back,’ Polly reminded him. ‘Sabini and Solomons have already sent condolences and flowers. So, it won’t be long before they come trotting up the A1 like wolves.’</p><p>‘Let them try,’ murmured Hal as John finally stood up.</p><p>‘Go on,’ insisted Ada, walking towards the door as well, tea tray in hand. ‘There’s a timetable.’</p><p>‘Of course there is,’ muttered Hal. Everything could be controlled for Tommy, everything structured.</p><p>‘Only good news,’ called Polly as a parting call.</p><p>Hal tipped his head ever so slightly and followed the siblings towards the belly of grief.</p><p>‘There is only good news, Polly,’ said Arthur, but there was no emotion behind his voice.</p><p>Arthur was the first one in the room, and even as he stepped over the threshold he removed his hat, as if this was some reverent moment that needed respect. In a way, it was. ‘There,’ he said. ‘There he is.’</p><p>John did the same, a more fluid movement, quick as a whip. Hal already had his own hat tucked in his pocket, and he gently closed the door behind them.</p><p>‘All right, Tom?’ asked Arthur.</p><p>‘All right, boys?’ said Tommy from behind the desk. His hands were splayed, stance wide. But there was no colour in his face. Anything of the life, the activity that usually brought Thomas Shelby to life was utterly missing from the man before them. He was like a ghost. He hadn’t even looked like this when they finally returned home from the War.</p><p>‘We, erm… We didn’t get a chance to, er, see you after the funeral,’ said Arthur as he took a seat, as John lent on the back of his, and as Hal himself settled a little further behind them, closest to the door. Tommy lit a cigarette. ‘Well, you disappeared on us, but, erm… Well, we just wanted to say –’</p><p>‘Arthur. Shut up.’</p><p>‘All right,’ said Arthur as Tommy stood up, as if unsure of what to do with himself.</p><p>‘All right. Now, talk to me,’ Tommy said as he leant against the ledge of the window.</p><p>‘We got to Angel at the hospital,’ admitted Arthur, and Hal felt a slight tightening of his chest. It hadn’t been pretty – and more than one nurse had had to be forced out of the room so they didn’t try to protect the man. ‘Where he laid, cut his throat. He’s dead. Cleared out the rest of the Italians out of the south of the city.’</p><p>‘They mostly went to the Black Country,’ admitted John, ‘but we told Betty Kitchen to keep ‘em moving.’</p><p>‘And Betty sends her condolences,’ murmured Hal, earning the barest flicker of attention from Tommy before he redoubled it on his cigarette, on the meeting at hand.</p><p>‘What about the old man?’</p><p>‘We interrogated his boys,’ went on Arthur, and Hal realised that he was worrying the material of his cap between his fingers.</p><p>‘Yeah, he went to Liverpool,’ said John, but there was a curtness about his voice that set Hal’s teeth on edge. His anger was bubbling up, his thoughts on not being seen as a family – or, at the very least, not being seen first – were refusing to be ignored. ‘He’s waiting for an immigrant ship to New York.’</p><p>‘When?’ asked Tommy, moving closer, eager to get some sliver of news. For retribution’s sake.</p><p>‘First ship sails Saturday,’ noted Hal.</p><p>‘All right,’ breathed Tommy, moving back to the desk. ‘I have contacts, people in Cunard at Liverpool. They’ll have passenger lists. They can get you into the point of departure. You pick him up and you bring him to me. Who’s he got travelling with him?’</p><p>‘His wife,’ said Arthur, but there was the barest of hesitations. The barest notion of doubt behind his voice. It was the niggle that Hal had been feeling himself, which made him attuned to it.</p><p>‘What?’ asked Tommy after a long drag of his cigarette.</p><p>‘His wife,’ said Arthur, louder this time but no less doubtfully.</p><p>‘So, shoot her and bring him to me,’ said Tommy, with all the coldness in the world behind his voice.</p><p>John fiddled with his hands, glanced towards the others before he finally looked in the vague direction of his older brother. ‘Er, Tommy? Mrs Changretta was a teacher at our school.’</p><p>‘She’s a good woman, Tom. A good woman,’ murmured Arthur. Not able to look at him either until the very end.</p><p>Tommy looked pensive for a moment, as if mulling the idea over. But there was something sinister about the look, something that worried Hal more than he cared to admit.</p><p>‘Well, if she’s a good woman, then she’ll go to Heaven, eh, Arthur?’ Tommy exhaled a mouthful of smoke slowly, picked up a letter and roughly offered it out to John. ‘Just do what’s on the list. Nothing else. Then burn it. And don’t speak on the phones. The fucking secret service is listening.’</p><p>He exhaled slowly, looked to John who had still not taken the paper. His attention wavered to Hal, but he made no move either.</p><p>‘And I want the old man alive,’ Tommy admitted. ‘I want to do it myself.’</p><p>There was a beat before Arthur stood, before he finally took the paper.</p><p>‘Right,’ said Tommy, settling back into his seat, ‘that’s it. You can go.’ He poured himself a drink.</p><p>Arthur turned, but Hal could see the tension in his best friend’s shoulders, could tell that John wasn’t done yet.</p><p>‘Come, John,’ said Arthur.</p><p>John, however, settled his arms a little more comfortably against the back of the chair. Hal shifted, stood a little closer to him, prepared to pull him out of there with force if necessary.</p><p>‘Tommy, if you ain’t going to be here, you’re going to have to tell us something,’ he said, voice littered with rage.</p><p>‘Ask Polly,’ said Tommy simply.</p><p>‘Not Michael? Not Lucinda?’</p><p>‘What?’ asked Tommy sharply, finally looking at his brother.</p><p>Hal’s hands balled by his sides, ready for action.</p><p>‘Not Michael, no?’ asked John again. ‘Or Luce? Does Stan even know you were doing these little meetings?’</p><p>‘No, not either of them, no,’ said Tommy, almost disbelievingly. There was no mention of Stan; probably because all of this was as far from Stan as it could possibly get. It was family business, not a family meeting. ‘Cos they deal with legitimate business.’</p><p>‘You saw ‘em before us,’ noted John, finally getting to the crux of his pain.</p><p>‘John,’ warned Arthur, ‘not naw.’</p><p>‘Wait, what did you say?’ asked Tommy, voice dangerous.</p><p>‘You saw Michael, and Luce, before us!’ John said, voice raised.</p><p>‘Johnny,’ muttered Hal, just as Arthur was saying, ‘For fuck’s sake, John.’</p><p>‘Because,’ said Tommy, voice softer than Hal would have expected, ‘legitimate business, John, is the priority.’ He took a drag of cigarette. He exhaled. ‘Legitimate business –’</p><p>‘Since when?’ snapped John.</p><p>Tommy hit the table as he stood up. ‘Since my fucking wife took a bullet meant for me!’</p><p>For a moment, the tension hung awkwardly in the air. Hal released the fists that he’d made ever so slowly.</p><p>John sniffed. ‘Oh, yeah. OK. It’s all secret service. Secret fucking service.’ He straightened, moved so he was closer to the table, within touching distance of his brother. ‘Blah-blah-blah. But you don’t tell us shit. We’re just fucking toy soldiers. Do this, John. Do that, John. Kill your fucking teacher, John.’ He hit the table, as if to punctuate the sentence.</p><p>An uneasy silence filled the air. Tommy’s face was a mask of rage, of hurt, of anything that normally he’d work so hard to control. John breathed deeply, but a little of the tension slipped from his shoulders.</p><p>Tommy was the one to break the look between them. ‘Is this how it’s going to be?’ He looked down, but when he looked to the three of them again there was a steel behind his eyes; he was back to being Thomas Shelby: leader of the Peaky Blinders.</p><p>‘All right, listen to me. There’s going to be a little war, in a little place that no one gives a fuck about and the side that is going to lose needs a little bit of help. And they’re willing to pay. When that business is done, legitimate business is the priority. Now, do what’s on the list and fuck off.’ He sat back down, putting an end to any further discussion.</p><p>John sniffed, rubbed his eyes and walked towards the door, hands clasped firmly behind his back.</p><p>Still, Hal hovered. There was so much to say, to remind Tommy. But he couldn’t. Not now. He knew this kind of grief, he recognised it. So he nodded before following his best friend out of the room.</p><p>***</p><p>Stan watched as Luce idly played with Karl, as she made his teddy bear dance for him, the small smile pulling at her lips was genuine, and it eased a little of the tension in Stan’s chest. Glancing away from her, he caught Hal’s eye and chose to ignore the questioning look that he spotted there. He didn’t need more people checking in on him, making sure that he was coping. He was too busy worrying about Tommy to allow for that. After all, in a couple of days he’d be gone, back to London and university.</p><p>‘Ada,’ Stan heard Arthur saying as he finally came back to the matter at hand, ‘we’re in the servants’ quarters because it’s where the fucking booze is kept.’</p><p>‘Arthur!’ chastised Aunt Pol. ‘Find better words.’</p><p>‘Hey Pol, does swearing in Gypsy count?’ asked John as Polly picked up the cheese knife.</p><p>‘That’s no reason for us to be speaking woker or shelter in any case,’ Polly said simply.</p><p>Stan crouched so that he was beside Luce. ‘<em>Think we should teach Karl some</em>?’ she asked in her stilting Gypsy.</p><p>Stan scoffed, and he was surprised to see that there was a small smirk on Polly’s face as she flitted about the kitchen, seemingly more at home there than he’d seen her in a place for a long time.</p><p>A cheer rose around the room.</p><p>‘I’m just saying,’ defended Polly, ‘there is no need.’</p><p>‘When she’s drunk, my wife can’t speak fucking English,’ said John, grabbing a bottle of booze from the side. ‘What about your misses, Hal?’ He elbowed his friend in the ribs, but there was no ignoring the small smile that lingered on Hal’s lips.</p><p>‘John!’ complained Pol.</p><p>‘Fucking right!’ agreed Arthur as Stan straightened. He rolled his eyes at his brother, but there was something comforting about them all being there. About the gentle teasing. He half wished that Tommy would join them. It might help him with the emotions he was too busy bottling up.</p><p>But, the atmosphere turned icy as Michael entered. Instinctively, Stan glanced towards Luce, but she was now grinning at Karl, helping him put the little toys on the stage he’d made up for them.</p><p>‘You dealt with it?’ Polly asked.</p><p>‘Incentives, no threats,’ Michael assured her. ‘Implied consequences without specific reference to physical harm.’ He moved to the head of the table, poured himself a cup of tea.</p><p>‘That’s why your Michael is the boss,’ Arthur said, though there was no masking the mild bitterness behind his voice. ‘He knows better words, right, Pol?’</p><p>‘Since when was I your boss, Arthur?’</p><p>‘First, the boss meets you. Then the workers meet ya,’ noted John.</p><p>‘When did either of you two do a day’s work?’ asked Finn.</p><p>Ada, Polly and Hal scoffed, but Stan noticed Luce slowly standing up, gently patting Karl on the head as she did so. He felt a shiver of unease run down his spine.</p><p>‘In the old days, Finn,’ Arthur defended, ‘family meetings used to be all of us together.’</p><p>‘Arthur, shut up,’ noted Pol.</p><p>Silence filled the room for a moment, and Stan felt the sudden urge to be out of there. For once, he thought he understood Luce’s need to run. </p><p>‘Now,’ continued Arthur, sounding somewhat reminiscent for the past, ‘me and John, we’re just fucking bin men whose duty it is to obey.’</p><p>‘You’re his brothers,’ Stan noted softly, earning a sharp look from John as Arthur downed his whiskey.</p><p>Arthur glanced towards him, as if battling telling him the whole truth or only part of it. But the atmosphere in the room was already tense. ‘Mrs Changretta,’ was all Arthur said.</p><p>‘Arthur,’ said Polly softly, moving to take the bottle off him, ‘shut up. Finn, go and get us cigars. Stan…’ Her voice trailed off ever so slightly, as if realising that there was no point dismissing him while Luce was still there. She gave him the briefest of nods instead, but the firm set of her mouth assured him she wasn’t too happy about it.</p><p>‘So what are we gonna do all night, eh?’ asked John.</p><p>‘Climb trees?’ teased Hal, a smirk on his face despite how it didn’t quite reach his eyes.</p><p>‘Who said you’re staying the night?’ asked Ada, grabbing a cup of tea.</p><p>‘I know what we can do,’ announced Arthur.</p><p>‘Uh-oh,’ murmured Hal, his attention straying to Luce and Stan. But Luce’s attention was on Michael, as if trying to figure out exactly what had happened on his foray to meet the workers.</p><p>‘We get the guns out, John,’ Arthur went on. ‘We go outside, and we shoot some fucking pheasants.’ He mimed shooting some birds, causing him and John to laugh softly. ‘That’s what the bosses do, isn’t it?’</p><p>‘Fuck off, Arthur,’ spat Michael.</p><p>‘The fuck you just say to me?’ asked Arthur, his voice dangerously calm. Stan felt his hackles raising, his attention drifted to Luce, to Karl.</p><p>‘I didn’t ask,’ said Michael reasonably, ‘for separate meetings today, all right?’</p><p>‘No. No, what the fuck did you just say?’ insisted Arthur.</p><p>Stan glanced towards Hal, noticed that the other man was ready for action; ready to pull the two of them apart if the need arose. But something told Stan that this wasn’t one of those moments. Arthur needed this… Whatever <em>this</em> was. And Michael was more than ready to deal with the consequences.</p><p>Arthur was up, though. He pushed his forehead against Michael’s as if he might be able to head-butt him out of the room. ‘Cos I didn’t fucking hear you right.’</p><p>John was up, moving Arthur away with an arm across his chest even before Hal had the chance to move; then again, Stan wondered if Hal hadn’t been prepared to look after everyone else in the room instead. Polly moved quickly behind Michael, but didn’t interfere. Stan glanced towards Luce again. She was coiled, ready to take Karl away in an instant because Ada was too far away. Too used to these kinds of conversations.</p><p>Michael turned so that he was looking Arthur directly in the face. ‘I didn’t ask for separate meetings today, all right?’ he repeated calmly.</p><p>‘Fucking pheasant,’ chirped up Karl, causing Luce to scoff. She raised her hand to her lips, but the moment was shattered in an instant. John wheezed out a laugh as Hal gently stood down.</p><p>‘Karl!’ breathed Ada, her own laughter bubbling up as she crouched in front of her son. ‘You can’t say things like that.’</p><p>‘Now look what you’ve done,’ accused Aunt Pol. ‘Stan, Luce, why don’t you take Karl outside?’</p><p>Luce looked as though she might protest before glancing briefly at Ada. Stan’s sister gave her a brief nod, and in an instant there was a smile on her face.</p><p>‘Come on, Karl. Let’s go see if we can’t find some of those pheasants,’ she said, offering her hand out to him.</p><p>Stan scoffed before following her out, grateful that he didn’t have to sit in the kitchen any longer, lest the tension rise above the boiling point once more.</p><p>They were barely in the hallway when Stan all but crashed into Finn. His younger brother took a couple of steps backwards, attention racing across their faces.</p><p>‘He’s gone,’ he said, glancing back over his shoulder towards the open door. ‘Tommy’s gone.’ For a moment, he almost sounded lost, but he shook himself out of his stupor and hurried down the stairs to the kitchen.</p><p>Stan glanced towards Luce, but she was already moving towards the office, checking to see if there was some kind of message. Stan gave Karl’s hand a gentle squeeze, his attention on the cart that was making its way towards the gates. He just hoped that Tommy might find whatever it was he was looking for.</p><p>***</p><p>Luce gave Cece’s hand a gentle squeeze, a reassurance that she should be here; in fact, that it was her right to be here, to say goodbye to Stan. After all, she’d known him for longer than Luce anyway. Still, it had taken some persuasion to get the older woman to accept the invitation to the station, but it had been something Luce couldn’t ignore. Cece had lost one of her closest friends, and everyone was off trying to deal with Tommy, that she refused to let the older woman be alone any longer. It didn’t matter that Cece had given Hal her blessing to go with them after the funeral, had refused to be with the Shelbys. Luce still felt bad that she’d been left alone with that grief.</p><p>But, now with Tommy out of the house, he was firefighting the tensions left between the other cousins. Trying to prevent them from attending any more funerals.</p><p>‘You going to bring Lia next time?’ Luce asked as Stanley jumped down from the carriage. He’d dumped his case by his seat, glanced briefly to the station master who had assured them they had a couple of minutes. She wondered idly if it was the Shelby part of him that allowed that moment, or the fact the station master saw goodbyes a lot, understood their importance.</p><p>He laughed softly, bent to gently kiss Cece on the cheek. She hugged him close, as if afraid that it might just be the last time she saw the gangly young man. ‘We’ll see.’ His lips quirked, as if he were about to say something else, but he stopped himself.</p><p>Luce arched an eyebrow but didn’t press the matter. ‘The longer you put it off, the more time we have to make up stories about your childhood,’ she teased, giving Cece’s hand a squeeze.</p><p>The older woman smirked briefly. ‘Like the week he thought he was a horse.’</p><p>‘And refused to eat anything but hay.’</p><p>Stan scoffed, shook his head disbelievingly. ‘She knows I didn’t know you as a kid, Luce.’</p><p>She offered him little more than a dismissive shrug as she hugged him, as she placed a quick kiss on his cheek when he crouched for her. ‘Just makes it even better if it’s recent.’</p><p>The whistle sounded, and Stan pulled away quickly, unable to argue the point. The grin on his face was enough to assure her that he was fine, as fine as he could be at the very least. ‘Speak soon,’ he vowed before jumping back on the train.</p><p>‘We better,’ was her parting call to him, a moment before the train started moving. Stan leant out of the window, waved at her as the train took him back down South.</p><p>Perhaps next time she’d go with him.</p><p>***</p><p>Hal knew that this was a bad idea, knew that he really should’ve talked the Shelbys out of it. But he didn’t have it in him. Part of him thought that it was actually a good idea: teaching Michael to shoot. He knew how to fight, and this was merely the next step up.</p><p>He’d been more than grateful to Luce for persuading Cece to come back with her – especially seeing as Tommy was gone for who knew how long. If he was being completely honest he would much rather have been inside with the two of them, sitting by the fire and probably trying to learn some shit card game that Luce was explaining to keep Karl entertained while he refused to sleep. But right now he needed to be here. Needed to make sure that none of the others went off the rails.</p><p>Somehow, he’d make it up to Cece.</p><p>‘All right,’ said Arthur, drawing Hal back to the moment, ‘now cock it with your thumb.’ He and John stood either side of Michael, leaning on the fence as they slowly made their way through the bottle of rum. Hal himself was a little to John’s right, just behind Michael in case he needed to stop a shot or something.</p><p>Michael raised the gun, holding it in both hands as if that might steady his aim. Hal knew the look in his eyes. He was determined to do this, determined to learn so as to earn some kind of respect. But he had no idea just how deeply into all this he was getting. Michael cocked the gun as his cousins chuckled.</p><p>‘There you go,’ said Arthur after a long sip of his drink. ‘Now she’s been cocked. She’s alive in your hand.’</p><p>John crowed, and Hal couldn’t help but smirk. Still, his attention remained on the gun, trying to make sure that the alcohol in their systems didn’t allow anyone to get hurt.</p><p>‘It’s like waking up a girl when you cock that trigger.’ Michael coughed, but finally Hal’s attention drifted to Arthur, confusion furrowing his brow. ‘She rolls over all sleepy-eyes and she goes “Michael. Michael”.’ Arthur’s voice was breathy, and Hal rolled his eyes as he looked back towards the gun, towards Michael.</p><p>‘“What are you gonna make me do, Michael?”’ added John in an equally stupid voice.</p><p>‘You boys are fucking crazy men,’ announced Michael loudly.</p><p>‘And obviously never actually woken up a girl,’ noted Hal, earning a cheeky wink from John before he started crowing once more.</p><p>‘Yeah, but you feel it, though, right?’ Arthur asked.</p><p>‘Yeah,’ Michael said, the glee on his face enough to cause Hal a little concern.</p><p>‘You feel it. Yeah, you can feel the power. Now, squeeze it.’</p><p>There was a beat. A moment where nothing happened other than John shifted to get a good look at the targets. And then, Michael shot. The gunshot ripped through the silent night and Hal knew that the others would be out in an instant, checking that everything was all right. Making sure that none of them were hurt. Especially Cece; she’d probably be at the head of the little gang. His stomach knotted ever so slightly, and for once he cursed himself for not having gone home despite the lateness of the hour.</p><p>‘Powerful,’ muttered Michael, realising that the shot had gone wide.</p><p>‘Fucking useless,’ slurred John, his attention slipping to Hal. ‘Wanna show –?’</p><p>‘Piss off, John,’ said Michael softly.</p><p>‘Michael, why does a pen pusher who sits on his arse all day wanna fire a gun? Hmm? Eh?’ asked Arthur, pointing towards the targets. ‘Cock it again.’ Arthur started to pour himself another drink. ‘Cock it again.’</p><p>‘Cock it again,’ agreed John, but Hal felt the tension rising to his shoulders. He didn’t like this, didn’t like the calm look that had settled on Michael’s expression. His own hands balled into fists. ‘Round two.’</p><p>Michael raised the gun, aimed towards the targets once more.</p><p>‘Look at that fucking face,’ said Arthur, causing John to mimic the concentration that had settled on Michael’s features. ‘Look at that face. Now he feels it. But you won’t feel nothing until you point that thing on a man.’</p><p>Hal’s every instinct screamed at him that this was wrong. The lack of control, the amount of alcohol, everything was wrong. But John caught his eye, shook his head ever so slightly. Even drunk, he knew what his brother was doing. Trusted that he – and Hal if necessary – could take care of Michael before anything really got out of hand.</p><p>‘So do it,’ encouraged Arthur.</p><p>‘Arth,’ murmured Hal, but John waved him off, as if eager to see how all of this would play out. If his cousin really had the balls for it.</p><p>There was a moment where it seemed as though the world held its breath. And then, Michael turned the gun on John, put it right in his face. Every instinct Hal had told him to move, to stop this little game. But Arthur shot him a look, a look of assurance that did very little to reassure him about the turn of events.</p><p>‘There you go, young boss,’ said Arthur, voice steady. Calm, even. Despite the fact Michael raised John’s cap with the barrel, as he put the gun right against John’s forehead. ‘There you go. Now ya feel it. Now ya feel what we feel. This is what it’s like.’</p><p>‘Michael, that’s a Webley,’ said John, voice low, still with a slight slur to it that set Hal’s teeth on edge. ‘Jumps on the hammer.’</p><p>‘How does it feel, Michael, huh?’ asked Arthur as his cousin slowly moved the weapon. ‘Better than having a pen in your hand, init?’</p><p>‘Rather a blade than a gun any day,’ murmured Hal, his attention still on the weapon, keeping track of it as it slowly slid towards him. He was under no illusion that he could best Michael. But he wasn’t so sure on the gun.</p><p>‘More like having your cock in your hand. Yeah.’ Michael moved the gun so that it was under Arthur’s chin.</p><p>‘Yeah, it is,’ said Michael, his voice low.</p><p>‘One squeeze.’ Arthur grunted as John nodded to Hal, giving him the OK to do the thing he’d been wanting to. He moved towards one side of Arthur, his brother taking up the other as a precaution. This was dangerous territory for all of them now. ‘I’m gone. I’m fucking gone mate.’</p><p>‘Michael,’ said John, his voice very almost sober sounding once more, ‘you fucking watch that Webley don’t jump. You know that?’</p><p>‘When you pull that fucking trigger, and the body of the man you shot wraps itself around your ankles, they pile up,’ noted Arthur as Michael shifted the gun ever so slightly; as he trailed it up Arthur’s face to rest under his eye. His breathing was heavy, a look of unbridled power settled on his face. ‘It gets to the point where you can’t walk in a room without bringing a load of them with ya.’</p><p>‘Michael,’ warned Hal.</p><p>‘What’s going on?’ asked Polly, her voice curiously low. In an instant, Michael moved the gun and Hal turned to see Polly marching towards them. Just through the trees, he could make out the familiar red of Luce’s hair. Had she been out there, on one of her exploring walks? Or had she simply run the fastest to see what was going on and known that Polly was the only person with the power to stop it?</p><p>‘What’s going on?’ Polly asked once she’d reached them, her voice soft, concerned even.</p><p>‘Polly, we’re just educating the boss here,’ noted Arthur.</p><p>‘Self-preservation,’ murmured Hal, but the words were hollow on his lips.</p><p>‘On our side of the business,’ continued Arthur, as if Hal hadn’t even spoken.</p><p>‘Michael,’ said Polly, looking between him and Arthur; for a moment, her gaze trailed towards Hal, as if he might be able to shed a little light on the situation, ‘get in the house.’</p><p>Michael turned without a word, but he turned back after barely a few steps.</p><p>‘I’m not a fucking kid anymore,’ he said, voice pitched low with just enough irritation behind it to make Hal’s blood boil. He stalked off, and if he spotted Luce at all he didn’t seem to do anything about it. Hal didn’t want to think might happen in his mood at the moment, or with her emotions. He’d seen them both in a fight; he wasn’t exactly sure he fancied Michael’s chances with the amount of alcohol in his system.</p><p>Polly looked towards Arthur, watched as he got out his own gun and aimed for the vases. He hit the glasses in quick succession without much aim. John joined him, hitting his own targets just as easily.</p><p>Hal sighed, but there was no point in making a show himself.</p><p>‘Get them inside,’ Polly said, before turning on her heel and walking back towards the house.</p><p>***</p><p>‘Stanley,’ said Lia, tapping the pen on the book he’d been reading. Or at least, looking at. He’d been meant to be making notes, getting his revision things prepared for the test in a few days. But his thoughts kept drifting. Ada and Karl were back at the house, the emptiness of the place had been filled again and he was thrilled. But he could have sworn he’d seen one of Sabini’s men the other day. As if they were looking for trouble.</p><p>‘Sorry, what?’ he asked, rubbing his arm firmly across his eyes.</p><p>Lia rolled her own, tucked the pen neatly into the bun of her hair. ‘Talk to me.’ She folded her arms on the table and surveyed him thoughtfully.</p><p>Stan opened his mouth but closed it again. He didn’t know what to say. He’d told her about the funeral, about his concerns for Tommy. He’d even told her about seeing Luce’s estranged brother the other week, though he hadn’t gone into details as to why he hadn’t spoken to the man. And yet, he found that he couldn’t find the right words to explain what was bothering him now. For the pure and simple reason that he didn’t know exactly what it was.</p><p>‘You know you can ask for more time,’ she said, tilting her head a little to one side. Her voice was soft, there was something of understanding there that usually she hid behind sarcasm and bitterness.</p><p>‘It’s not that,’ he admitted, certain that it wasn’t grief stilling his tongue.</p><p>‘But it’s still an option,’ she reasoned, grabbing her pen once more. ‘You done with this page?’ She waved the pen across the images as if she were about to do a magic trick.</p><p>He nodded the affirmative before grabbing his own pen once more.</p><p>‘The time and the talking,’ she elaborated as she turned the page.</p><p>Stan let out a breath, and vaguely wondered what Lia would make of his family if he ever actually took her back to Birmingham. He had a rough idea what they’d make of her, but oddly it was the other way that concerned him the most. </p><p>***</p><p>Hal was on edge. He knew what they were about to do, knew that this was all part of Tommy’s plan, and yet part of him still squirmed at the idea. He wove his way through the crowd, knowing that he was meant to charm the Italians into cooperating, knowing that there was no chance of that. Even armed with the few phrases Luce had managed to teach him, the answers swimming in his head, he knew that it was going to be no avail. It was going to be brute force. But that’s why the others were there. He tried not to think of them as expendable, but he knew that was the whole idea.</p><p>‘Police!’ Changretta called, raising his hands so that the nearest officers would be able to see him. Still, they were too far away. There was no help here. ‘Help! Police!’</p><p>Hal sauntered over, just in time for a police officer to arrive, quicker than he’d anticipated. He put his hands in his pockets, trying to look as nonchalant about the whole thing as possible.</p><p>‘Officer, there are some men, they mean us harm,’ Changretta said. ‘We are in danger here. Can you escort us to the dock? Please.’ Changretta counted out some coins, palmed them off to the officer.</p><p>But Hal had recognised the man. Even as he said, ‘Come with me,’ he knew that there was no safety for the Italians here.</p><p>‘Excuse me, brother,’ asked Gus as Changretta moved to get his cases. ‘Have ya got a light?’</p><p>Hal followed them for a little way, making sure that the officer was playing his part, and then he slipped back into the crowd, allowing himself to get lost. Knowing that the real work was still to come.</p><p> </p><p>Deep down, Hal knew that he’d got the easy part. John and Arthur had done the hard work, getting Mrs Changretta away from her husband. Still, that didn’t make standing in the abandoned warehouse any easier. He flipped out his pocket watch, looking at the time without really seeing it. A little of the daylight filtered in through the low windows, but most of the light came from the lanterns he’d lit. Something to do with his hands while they waited for Tommy.</p><p>Mr. Changretta was sat on a chair. They, he and Arthur, had wrestled him out of his shirt. They’d bound his hands behind the chair as they forced him onto it. Still, there was a part of Hal that wondered how much of this was really the old man’s fault. Had he ordered the hit that got Grace? Was it retribution from elsewhere in his ranks? There was no way of truly knowing.</p><p>Something told Hal that Tommy wasn’t exactly going to be seeking answers here today. Instead, this was his attempt to strike back. To show power while attempting to lessen the grief consuming him. They all knew it would be fruitless, but none of them had been able to persuade him otherwise.</p><p>When Tommy arrived, his brothers moved to sentry positions near the lights, as if it might keep them clean of this dirty deed somehow. Hal stood to the back, his attention resolutely on Tommy. He was still a broken man, a man that had lost the good in his life. And it showed. How long before that look went away? Would it ever truly go away?</p><p>Changretta’s voice was soft as Tommy removed his own coat and jacket, as he sat down opposite the captured man. His breath fogged in the low light with the prayers that Hal didn’t understand.</p><p>‘Do you know what time it is, old man?’ Tommy asked, leaning forwards. ‘I’ll tell ya.’ Tommy moved to look at his own watch. ‘It’s after seven in the evening, and I’m going to keep you alive until it gets light.’ He shifted forwards, the sound of the wood creaking drowning out the Italian prayers for a moment.</p><p>Hal cut a quick look towards John. None of this was right. Even if it was Changretta that had pulled the trigger, this wasn’t the kind of retribution Hal could swallow.</p><p>‘I’ll not deliver the final cut until we can both hear the blackbirds singing outside,’ Tommy continued, as if unperturbed by the murmuring of the old man. He gripped the back of Changretta’s neck, pulled him closer so that he could lower his voice threateningly. A shiver ran down Hal’s back. It was a powerful gesture, one that he’d seen plenty before in his childhood. ‘It’s a beautiful sound, which my wife will never hear again.’</p><p>Tommy stood up, raised his hand expectantly.</p><p>John remained where he was for a moment before taking the tools over to his brother. Even in the dim light, his face was a ghostly shade of white. He unclipped the briefcase, offering out the knives for Tommy to take his pick of.</p><p>‘Now, I’m gonna have to choose carefully,’ Tommy said, his voice calm, ‘which part of you I cut away first.’</p><p>The Italian continued to speak in Italian. Hal was grateful that Tommy hadn’t insisted upon having a translator, making sure that Luce was as far away from all of this as possible.</p><p>‘Open your eyes,’ Tommy said simply, and Hal glanced towards the brothers. Neither of them looked happy about this. They had seen violence before in their lives, had doled out enough of it for a lifetime, but this was something different. Still, neither of them wanted to refuse Tommy his retribution. Neither of them were willing to stop him. ‘Open your eyes, or I will cut away your fucking eyelids!’ Tommy’s irritation was slowly getting the better of him, threatening to spill over completely from the usual calm that he maintained when they were around others. Then again, Changretta wasn’t going to tell anyone about the momentary blip.</p><p>‘Now look at me,’ Tommy said after a moment, his voice calmer once more. ‘Look at me. This is the end. This is the end. It was your tongue that gave the order.’ Tommy gripped Changretta’s chin, and in the quiet of the building Hal heard the leather of his gloves creaking with the movement. He suddenly felt hyper alert, as if the actions were going to come raining down on him instead of the man who had killed Grace through words alone. ‘I’ll take your tongue first. Then I’ll take your ears. Then I’ll take your fingers.’ Tommy walked backwards, his attention never once straying from Changretta, even as he moved his own chair away, put it back on the floor with a solid <em>thump</em>. ‘Then your fucking toes. See, I take your balls first, you drain too fast like you fuckers do.’</p><p>Hal glanced towards John, could see that his friend was covering his face with his cap, unable to look at Tommy while he continued on, threatening Changretta. Though, they were more promises than threats. They all knew that Tommy was not beyond violence. Least of all now. Least of all when there was no Grace to try and make himself better for. He looked towards Arthur; the other man’s eyes were completely covered. Hal alone wasn’t wearing his cap, he’d abandoned it, thought it the honourable thing to do if they had to withstand the horrors Tommy was inflicting.</p><p>Tommy moved forwards, the knife in Changretta’s mouth as he prepared to remove the tongue, to get his vengeance underway. However, he pulled back after a moment.</p><p>‘If I take your tongue, you won’t be able to explain, and I want you to explain. I want you to fucking explain.’ His voice broke ever so slightly, and Hal was taken back to another time. A time where he’d faced off against his father, where he’d needed to understand what had happened. But no explanation had ever come.</p><p>Tommy cradled Changretta’s head against his chest. There was something ominous about the occasionally comforting gesture that set Hal’s teeth on edge. Still, the old man continued to mutter, his own prayers never once relenting.</p><p>After a moment, Tommy walked away. He crouched. ‘Come on, Tommy,’ he murmured, before turning back. ‘I forget who I am. I forget who I am,’ he said, striding back towards them. ‘I’m a Blinder. I’ll take your fucking eyes first!’</p><p>Tommy raised the knife, but he wasn’t quick enough. The gunshot was loud, echoed around the empty space as the splatter left residue on the floor to Hal’s right. He’d barely flinched, but in an instant his attention was on Arthur.</p><p>‘I heard the blackbird sing,’ he said simply, stepping closer to the body as Tommy panted, not quite understanding what exactly had happened.</p><p>‘And we let his wife board the immigrant ship to New York. We didn’t kill Mrs Changretta,’ admitted John.</p><p>‘It’s all right,’ said Arthur, moving towards Tommy a couple of steps.</p><p>‘We’re not those kind of men,’ Hal said, his voice little more than a whisper as he slowly walked towards the back of the room.</p><p>Arthur moved, took the cutthroat from Tommy and flicked it back closed. He dropped it on the floor as he left. Hal stood behind Changretta, nodded at John who followed Arthur; they knew what they had to do.</p><p>Tommy sighed before turning to Hal. ‘You get rid of the body.’</p><p>‘Tommy,’ Hal said softly, but he didn’t know what else to say. There was nothing that he could say. He knew, deep down, that if anything like that had happened to Cece, he would’ve been the same. He would have seen the red cloud of anger that would make him threaten anyone even remotely connected to her death. He knew that the Shelbys would have been the ones to pull him back out of that recess, and he was determined to do anything he could to help Tommy out of it right now; now that someone else had managed to force him away from the precipice.</p><p>Tommy shook his head before rubbing his arm across his forehead and leaving the room. Hal watched him go, half wondered if he shouldn’t get a message to Polly. To Stan. To someone just to make sure that Tommy wasn’t alone. But, with a sigh, he instead grabbed one of the blades from the briefcase and cut loose Changretta’s hands.</p><p>‘<em>Riposare in pace</em>,’ he murmured, knowing that it was the right thing to do, despite how his insides churned at the thought. There’d be no peace for a man like Changretta. No peace for any of them after the things that they’d done.</p><p>***</p><p>The fair was a mess of colour, of noise, of smells that it was impossible to ignore. In fact, it was exactly the kind of thing that Luce had needed, something to bombard the senses with so that she didn’t have to think about anything else. She didn’t have to wonder about why Hal had needed to know some key Italian phrases, didn’t need to worry about Charlie because Mary was looking after him at his own home.</p><p>The idea had been Isaiah’s, and it had taken a few attempts from him before she eventually agreed to go. Mainly, it had been the fact she could annoy Michael with reminiscences of the fair that had swayed it.</p><p>‘Why don’t you have a go?’ Isaiah asked, nodding at a coconut shy as they wandered passed.</p><p>It took a moment for the question to sink in. Luce’s attention had been lost to the fair, there was something else to capture the attention, to ensnare her imagination. She’d almost forgotten that he was there with her.</p><p>‘Aren’t they all rigged?’ she asked, finally turning her full attention to him. There was a slight smirk on his face, and even in the shadow of his peaked cap she could see his eyes were sparkling.</p><p>‘Dunno what unrespectable fairs you Londoners go to,’ he teased, causing her to gasp indignantly at him, even if it was feigned. ‘But a fair would never trick kin.’</p><p>‘The Lees are running it?’ she queried, trying to spot a familiar feature amongst any calling their wares.</p><p>Isaiah shrugged before offering her out a hand. ‘Just this one,’ he assured her.</p><p>It only took a beat for Luce to reach for his hand, but as soon as she had he was gently dragging her to the stall. He seemed to have every intention of going straight to the front, but Luce dug her heels in, causing him to falter.</p><p>‘You all right?’ he asked, eyes already surveying the crowd.</p><p>Instinctively, she gave his hand a squeeze, drew his attention back to her. ‘One day,’ she said softly, her thoughts straying to Stan, to the life he was building himself. ‘One day where there’s no links to the Shelbys or any of what comes with it.’</p><p>Isaiah looked conflicted, and for a second she doubted that he’d manage it, that too long with the Shelbys meant it was impossible for him to ignore those links, even for one evening. But he bowed his head ever so slightly and moved to stand by her side.</p><p>‘But if you don’t win, I’m getting one of the prizes.’</p><p>Luce cringed ever so slightly, but when she looked at him there was a small smirk ghosting his lips.</p><p>‘Civilly,’ he vowed, allowing her a breath of relief. Perhaps they might actually be able to forget it all for a little while, to act like two normal young adults enjoying an evening away from the city.</p><p>‘Thank you,’ she said, giving his arm a slight hug but never once letting go of his hand. Maybe there was hope for the extended Shelby family moving away from the gang warfare and illegality of ninety percent of their actions. Maybe there was hope for them to follow in Stan’s footsteps.  </p><p>***</p><p>‘Arthur for fuck’s sake, what is it?’ asked John, leaning back in his chair ever so slightly. Hal’s attention was barely on him, though. He was too busy thinking about other things, about the wedding that he needed to plan, about the blood that he’d had to wash from his hands and the way Cece’s eyes had all but shuttered to him when she saw the last of the red swirling down the sink.</p><p>‘No. We wait for Tommy,’ Arthur insisted, putting a bottle of something on the stool that he had decorated with a red cloth. For a moment, Hal wondered if they shouldn’t go make sure that Luce was out of the way. Her attention had been drawn back to the yard, too boring stuck inside working with only Michael for company. The boats, and recently cars as well, had drawn her fancy once more.</p><p>‘I’ve got a stolen statue back there,’ admitted Charlie, ‘with its dick hanging out waiting to be melted down.’</p><p>‘Get Red to do it,’ teased John, causing Hal to gently whack him around the back of the head.</p><p>‘Tell us,’ said Charlie, attention briefly shifting towards John. ‘Tell Tommy later.’</p><p>‘Be glad I ain’t waiting on Stan,’ commented Arthur.</p><p>Hal opened his mouth to question his friend, but John was faster.</p><p>‘Yeah, look, he’s not here. He’s not here. I’m going,’ said John standing up. Curly followed suit quickly.</p><p>But, even as they turned to leave, Tommy came striding towards them. The others mumbled their own comments, yet it was Tommy who drew the attention.</p><p>‘All right, what is it?’</p><p>‘Arthur’s fucking giving us all this shit,’ noted John, still walking away from the little meeting.</p><p>‘Come on. Come on,’ said Tommy, spinning John so that he was facing the little congregation once more.</p><p>‘Right,’ announced Arthur, all of them now on their feet. The fire crackled pleasantly, even as Arthur stuck the cork of his alcohol in his mouth.</p><p>‘Arthur you got wire on the fucking cork,’ complained John as he strode back towards them. ‘Give it here.’</p><p>Arthur spat but handed the bottle over nonetheless. ‘Bastard. Right. Gentlemen!’ He jumped up on a chair, removed his hat as if what he had to say next deserved that kind of reverence. ‘Linda is up the swanny. I’m gonna be a fucking dad.’</p><p>‘God help them,’ teased Hal, a smirk on his lips as Arthur made a swing for his shoulder.</p><p>‘Fuck off,’ said John as the others chuckled. All apart from Tommy, who looked on his brother with a kind of disbelief that Hal had never seen before.</p><p>‘Yes, Curly. Yeah,’ Arthur said, clapping him amicably on the shoulder. He jumped down, faced Tommy.</p><p>‘Arthur, I knew you had it in ya,’ said Charlie, moving to hug him, patting him on the back. ‘I knew he had it in him.’</p><p>Still, Arthur’s attention never once strayed from Tommy.</p><p>‘September she reckons,’ Arthur said. ‘Her tits feel different already.’</p><p>‘Yeah, that’s not the only thing that’s gonna be different, brother,’ noted John, pointing to him with a cigar. ‘You’re next, Henry.’</p><p>Hal rolled his eyes, tried not to think about the day that came. He was terrified enough about it as it was, he didn’t need the others thinking on it as well.</p><p>John scoffed. ‘You’re fucked now, man.’ He moved to pat his brother on the arm. ‘Fucked. Absolutely fucked.’</p><p>‘Na, nothing’s gonna change, John,’ Arthur assured him.</p><p>‘Goodbye, Arthur,’ Tommy said simply. ‘I’ve a meeting I have to go to.’</p><p>‘Yeah,’ said Arthur, sounding almost lost. Hal felt the unusual urge to shake Tommy, even as he hugged his brother. ‘Yeah, of course you do.’ The hug lingered for longer than Hal would have guessed, and it was Arthur who spoke again when they pulled apart. ‘Yeah you, er, you go to your meeting.’</p><p>‘Congratulations,’ Tommy said.</p><p>‘I’m gonna be a dad.’</p><p>‘I’m proud of ya,’ noted Tommy before walking away.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter Four: Stark Reminders</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stan watched the stag, unable to properly look at it though. Even from where they were, he could have sworn that he could hear the thing panting in the early morning. Could see the fog of its breath. Everything reminded him of just how alive the animal was. Tradition be damned, he didn’t have to enjoy this.</p><p>And then, Tommy made the shot. Stan flinched at the sound, carefully ran his hand over the horse’s neck. It was more for his benefit than anything else, but it was something that had to be done.</p><p>Stan wasn’t able to help load the beast onto the back of Curly’s trailer, and he was surprised that the man allowed them to slaughter it at all. But, as he had to remind himself several times throughout this ordeal, it was tradition. Stan thought that it was the best for Tommy, yet he knew it was doing himself no good. </p><p>Even as they rode back to camp, he stayed a little distanced from the others. Part of him didn’t really want to be there, instead wanted to be listening to the laughter and conversation that Luce was probably having with Cece, the excitement for the wedding increasing; their talk of Linda’s baby mixed in with it all as well. Not that they’d be doing that, there was still work to be done. But instead he was with his brothers, wondering for once why Hal had been allowed to sit this one out. He knew, deep down, that it was to look after Shelby business back home if the need arose. To protect those that had been left behind even if Polly was more than capable of doing it. And, for once, Stan wished that he’d been given that kind of job.</p><p>Staying in London had been an option, but this was the most normal thing Tommy had done since everything. Stan refused to miss out on that step forward in his brother dealing with his grief. He’d quiz Lia when he got back about what she’d done – it wouldn’t be the same as his own training, but it might help.</p><p>Back at camp, Stan stayed with the horses, gently stroked down the withers and shoulder. It had been too long since he’d just stood with the animals. London was too busy even for that.</p><p>‘Watch out, John-Boy,’ teased Arthur, his voice lighter than it had been in a long time, ‘he’s got a strong left.’ John ducked away from an attack from his youngest brother, a grin on his face the whole time.</p><p>‘Arthur, John, Stan, Finn. Come here,’ beckoned Tommy, and Stan stilled. There was something curious about Tommy’s voice that caught his attention in an instant, not just the fact that they’d all been called. They moved, sitting on the foldup chairs that had been arranged around the little fire already. Stan instinctively pulled his coat a little closer to him as he sat, as if to stave off the cold a little longer.</p><p>‘All right,’ said Arthur as he sat, ‘what is it?’</p><p>Tommy glanced around at them all, waved the piece of paper in his hand. ‘This letter says that Dad’s dead.’ He offered it out to Arthur, but the silence that fell over them was complete. ‘He was in Boston in a bar called the Mickey Free,’ Tommy went on, clearing his throat as the letter was passed around. None of them really read it, just skimmed for the important things; the truth behind Tommy’s words. ‘Two men waiting in an alley. He was shot twice.’</p><p>‘Who’s Rosie Rice?’ asked John, folding the letter roughly and palming it off to Stan. He skimmed the words, but none of them went in.</p><p>‘Some fucking whore,’ noted Arthur bitterly.</p><p>Stan barely acknowledged Finn plucking the letter from him. Instead, he turned his attention to his eldest brother. Arthur was always the one that had the closest connection to their father. The events of their most recent reunion remained with Stan though; the mild dislike that had bubbled up under the surface for him. He desperately wished that Hal was there with them now.</p><p>Just in case.</p><p>‘She wrote to us,’ Stan noted, hearing the vague hollowness to his voice.</p><p>‘Exactly,’ Tommy agreed, his attention barely flicking around to Arthur and John. ‘She wanted us to know that during the night, while he was dying, he asked for our forgiveness. The only thing he ever taught us was how to kill and cut a stag. Finn, Stan, John, you won’t remember.’</p><p>‘Yeah, I remember. Cannock Chase,’ said John, his voice filled with a kind of emotion Stan rarely heard from him. ‘Parked up at a pub called the Griffin. Got drunk and sang “Silver Dagger” about hundred times.’</p><p>‘Yeah. One weekend,’ Arthur said, voice barely shy of a snap. ‘One weekend he was like that.’</p><p>‘The stag is to remember him,’ said Tommy, cutting through the vaguely building tension in an instant. Stan did his best not to look at the carcass that was about to be their meal. There was something more disturbing about knowing that he’d seen it draw its last breath than he needed to be reminded of. ‘We eat and then we forget him.’</p><p>‘Is it really that simple?’ Stan asked. He glanced around as his brothers, and then realised that he’d spoken aloud. He felt the heat rushing to his cheeks.</p><p>‘In time, Stanley, in time,’ Tommy assured him softly. ‘But there’s no need to forgive him. Agreed?’</p><p>The others made their motions of agreement, but Stan stared into the fire. Forgiveness was something that they could hold back in an instant. Finn had barely known the man so there was little to actually think about. But Stan himself wasn’t sure. He didn’t think he could forgive their father for anything that he’d done. And yet, part of him yearned to be able to do it. More for his own peace of mind than anything else.</p><p>‘John, I have this to say,’ said Tommy, leaning a hand on his knee. ‘You can name your new baby after him if you like.’</p><p>‘No,’ said John, not looking up from the spot between his feet. His cap askew on his head so that it covered one eye.</p><p>‘Arthur, and I won’t even ask. So his name dies. It’s been in the family for a long time, but now it’s gone. All right, that’s done. Fuck him,’ said Tommy, pocketing the letter.</p><p>John spat on the ground.</p><p>‘Before we cook and eat,’ said Tommy, glancing briefly towards Stan, ‘there’s some business.’</p><p>Stan didn’t move though. He didn’t really want to be away from his brothers right now; didn’t want to be alone with the news that had just been shared with them all. He didn’t think that it mattered what he heard, he’d block it out anyway. </p><p>Something in his expression must have agreed with Tommy’s own instincts, because he gave the barest of nods before continuing. ‘Boys!’ He motioned everyone else over.</p><p>‘I wanted to say this out here, ‘cause I don’t trust the maids in the ‘ouse,’ Tommy explained once everyone was seated. ‘There’s gonna be a robbery.’</p><p>***</p><p>‘It’s not fair,’ complained Esme as she entered the shop.</p><p>Luce wasn’t really meant to be there, but she couldn’t help it. The office was too quiet with Michael gone and with nobody else there she’d been beginning to go a little stir-crazy, especially seeing as Cece had gone off to meet with one of her friends, Jessie, about a meeting. She never thought she’d miss Michael’s presence in the office, but somehow it just hadn’t felt right being there without knowing there was <em>someone </em>around.</p><p>Esme dumped her purse on the table where Lizzie was working, where Luce was perched as if ready to jump into action at any moment. ‘They’re off drinking and shooting rifles as we sit here.’</p><p>‘You ain’t done much sitting, Esme,’ Luce noted. She swung her legs, hoping that the movements wouldn’t interrupt the work.</p><p>Esme rolled her eyes, but didn’t stop in her little rant, determined to get her point across. ‘Listen to the mugs swearing, spitting on the bloody floor for us to fucking wipe up!’ She dropped into the seat as Polly wandered through the shop. She started unlocking the cell door, causing Luce to watch her. ‘Without men here, they’d be like dogs pissing up the wall.’</p><p>‘Call Hal,’ said Lizzie absently.</p><p>Esme waved a dismissive hand at her, and instead started addressing Polly now the rest of her little audience seemed to be paying her no heed. ‘I was just saying it’s not fair. The men are down there like lords.’</p><p>‘You all right, Pol?’ Luce asked as the older woman wiped her nose forcefully.</p><p>But Polly, as usual, wasn’t in the mood for comfort. ‘Esme, just… Get on with it.’</p><p>Luce jumped off the table as Polly moved through the shop, determined to find out if she was all right.</p><p>‘I’m bloody five months gone,’ she heard Esme complain. </p><p>Luce hovered near the edge of the section where the safe was, saw Polly leaning her head against the cold metal. She looked almost defeated, and Luce felt a pang of sorrow in her chest. There was little she could do to comfort Polly Gray unless she really wanted it, and something told her today was not one of those days.</p><p>‘Forgot the combination,’ Polly sighed.</p><p>‘Twenty-four, eight, twenty-two,’ came Lizzie’s voice.</p><p>‘How do you know the paper cash combination?’ Polly asked, turning her head ever so slightly. She caught Luce’s eye, but didn’t say anything about her being there.</p><p>‘Tommy talks in his sleep,’ said Esme, the lilt of amusement obvious behind her voice.</p><p>‘Shut up, Esme,’ snapped Lizzie.</p><p>Polly groaned and pulled at the handle. Then, she turned, resting her back against it. ‘He’s changed the combination.’</p><p>‘Of course he has,’ murmured Luce.</p><p>Lizzie was around there in an instant, her heels clipping neatly on the floor. Luce stepped aside, wondered if perhaps she shouldn’t head back to the office and make sure nothing else had been changed on a whim.</p><p>‘You’ve put it in wrong,’ said Lizzie.</p><p>‘No, I haven’t,’ Polly assured her.</p><p>‘Your hands are shaking,’ Lizzie noted as the two of them faced the safe.</p><p>Lizzie twirled the dial and then hauled the door open. She stalked back to work, and Luce instead perched herself on a different table. She kept her eyes on Polly, determined to make sure that she was all right even if she wouldn’t talk about whatever was on her mind.</p><p>‘And actually,’ said Lizzie when she was back at the desk, pouring over the paperwork still to be done, ‘I am sleeping with Tommy, OK? Now and then. Because he wants to, now and then. When the mood takes him. Except we don’t sleep. It’s hard to sleep bent over a desk, isn’t it?’</p><p>‘Lizzie!’ Shock pulled the name from Luce’s lips. She hastily put her hand to her mouth, but Lizzie didn’t bother to look at her. She glanced between the others, as if seeking some kind of approval for her honesty.</p><p>‘Happy?’</p><p>Esme glanced towards Polly, and then turned back to the working Lizzie. Luce watched Polly though, watched her eyes following Lizzie even as the door opened and the rest of the workers started to come in. </p><p>‘None of it’s fucking fair,’ complained Esme, getting back to work herself.</p><p>Luce heaved a sigh, she couldn’t help but agree. Still, she had her own work to do, and there was no way she could do it here. She grabbed her coat and left, calling a quick goodbye over her shoulder, hoping that she’d be back again soon.</p><p>***</p><p>Stan huddled close to the horses, gently stroking them down the flank and trying to ignore everything else that was going on; the way this whole trip had turned from a tradition into something else. Whatever information Tommy had been giving the others, he’d barely listened to. He’d forced himself to go over the lessons he’d had recently at University, about the different kinds of knocks to the head people could get and the treatments for them because there’d be a test when he got back – a remedial one as he’d missed the real thing. As soon as the little group had dispersed though, he’d headed straight for the horses, straight for something familiar and safe as he digested the news.</p><p>His father was dead, shot by two people in an alley.</p><p>‘Stanley.’ Tommy’s voice snapped his attention away from the animal and towards his brother. A cigarette hung out of Tommy’s mouth, the end lit red as he took a drag of it. His eyes were on the horse beside Stan, and as he stepped closer Tommy gently stroked it’s neck, made a soft cooing noise.</p><p>Silence filled the space between them. Stan desperately wanted to ask if he was all right, but he knew it was a pointless question. Tommy wouldn’t talk about it either way. And besides, he’d been the one to instigate this little conversation, he’d start it properly when he was ready.</p><p>Eventually, Tommy gently stroked the horse’s muzzle, guided it’s head down so that he could look at Stan. ‘That business over there,’ he said, tipping his head in the direction of the fire, ‘it’s the last of it.’</p><p>Despite everything, Stan shook his head. He desperately wanted to believe his brother, wanted to trust it really was that simple, but after all these years he knew it wasn’t. The promises were pretty, they were nice to hear, but he was slowly beginning to doubt them. Even if it was only in the back of his mind, the concern had taken root.</p><p>Tommy dropped his cigarette, put it out under his shoe as he moved to stand in front of Stanley. It was odd, having his brother look slightly up at him, and Stan found his shoulders sagging as if to make himself that little bit smaller. He practically felt Lia’s finger tapping at him, urging him not to hunch over like that; heard her voice reminding him to stand up properly.</p><p>Tommy’s hand went to the back of Stan’s neck, a firm grip that he’d seen Tommy use with the others multiple times. ‘It will be, Stan,’ he vowed, and there was such sincerity behind his voice that Stan couldn’t look away. ‘We’re going legitimate.’</p><p>Stan waited for something else, waited for another comment because the air between them felt as though it was heavy with something left unsaid. And yet, the words didn’t come. He filled in the blanks for himself. Tommy was more determined than ever to get to legitimate business. If not for the family, then for Grace, for everything that he’d wanted for her.</p><p>Slowly, he nodded and Tommy pulled his hand away. ‘Come on, there’s a stag to prepare.’ He didn’t wait for Stan’s answer, simply moved towards the others.</p><p>Stan heaved a sigh, gently patted the muzzle of the horse, and then followed his brother, trying to ignore the slight tightening of his stomach as he did so.</p><p>***</p><p>The office was something of a ghost town. Luce tried her best to fill it with noise, to make sure that she didn’t get too caught up in how quiet it all was, but nothing was really working. The soft whistle of the kettle, the song coming from the gramophone, the gentle tap of her pen on the table as she thought, none of it filled the space that not having the likes of Michael or any of the others created.</p><p>So, the ringing of the phone caught her attention in an instant. She fumbled with her pen, barely caught it between scrabbling fingers as she used her other hand to pick up the phone.</p><p>‘Hello, this is –’</p><p>‘Luce, you coming to the Bull Ring?’ Cece’s voice was light, but there was noise in the background that assured her she wasn’t alone.</p><p>‘Bit early isn’t it?’ Luce said, glancing briefly at the carriage clock on the mantelpiece opposite.</p><p>‘Not for the market,’ said Cece, a vague chuckle behind her voice. ‘Jessie’s doing a march.’</p><p>‘A march?’ For some reason, the word was pulling up a momentary blank for Luce. But, after a second it all slotted together for her. She thought of the marches her mother had gone on, the ones that her friends had encouraged after self-defence lessons. ‘One’s happening now?’</p><p>‘Can you get here in ten minutes?’</p><p>‘I’m already on my way,’ Luce vowed, reaching under the desk for her bag, glad to get out of the office at the very least.</p><p> </p><p>Luce was used to bustling cities, used to a mass of people, but there was something awe inspiring about the sheer amount of women filling every available space in the Bull Ring. It almost took her breath away, and for a moment she had no idea how she was going to find Cece; but it didn’t matter, because there were people and life and everything that the office had been severely lacking.</p><p>‘Lucinda!’</p><p>Luce turned in an instant, spotted Polly Gray sauntering towards her unsteadily. Esme, Linda and Lizzie flanked her, smiles on their faces and an ease about them that brought a bright smile to Luce’s face.</p><p>‘What’re you doing here?’ Luce asked, hurrying towards them; still, she kept an eye out for Cece.</p><p>‘What’d you think?’ Lizzie teased, waving her hand at the congregation around them.</p><p>Luce chuckled, but her attention caught Cece and she raised her hand in greeting. Cece nodded, spoke to the woman beside her for a moment, and then slipped away.</p><p>‘Why should the men have all the fun?’ announced Esme, grinning wickedly as Polly moved away from them, her attention locked on something.</p><p>‘You made it,’ greeted Cece excitedly, drawing Luce’s attention her way.</p><p>‘Wouldn’t miss it,’ she assured her, lopping her arm through Cece’s. She glanced around at the others. ‘What do we do?’</p><p>‘We march,’ came a voice from behind them, and Luce glanced over her shoulder in time to see a somewhat severe looking woman with dark hair walk around them. She settled herself easily between the Shelby company and Luce and Cece.</p><p>‘After your speech though, Jessie,’ said Linda, smiling serenely at the new arrival.</p><p>The woman smiled, opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by the sound of someone shouting above the general hubbub around them.</p><p>‘Revolution!’ came the ever familiar call from one Polly Gray, and Luce couldn’t stop herself from grinning. This was going to be a march to remember, she already knew it.</p><p>***</p><p>Hal let out a long whistle, his attention on the car as Tommy pulled up to the curb. He watched as his friend jumped out, as he slammed the door and glanced back only briefly. It didn’t matter what the car looked like, it wasn’t his and Tommy obviously had some issues with whoever it did belong to. Not hate, but there was something there that Hal couldn’t quite put his finger on.</p><p>‘Nice car, Tom,’ Hal teased, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.</p><p>‘Piss off,’ grumbled Tommy, and there was something about his tone that had Hal straightening up from leaning against the lamppost. He waited for Tommy to reach him before moving to follow him into the house.</p><p>‘How was she, Tom?’ greeted John, winking over at Hal as if it was all some kind of massive joke. Inside, Arthur stood by another door holding the paperwork, and John stood sentry over the fireplace. Hal was pretty sure that neither of them had moved since he went outside for some air; the smell of alcohol was too sickly for his liking.</p><p>‘Talkative, yeah,’ noted Tommy.</p><p>Arthur scoffed as Tommy removed his cap.</p><p>‘I was fucking working, all right?’ defended Tommy. ‘Would you rather I sent Hal?’</p><p>‘Thanks,’ grumbled Hal, ignoring the whoop the comment earned from John.</p><p>‘Yeah,’ murmured Arthur as they all moved to be around the small coffee table. As usual, Hal remained standing closer to the exit, unable to properly relax when there was business to discuss.</p><p>‘From what she said, when she was out of her fucking mind, I’m pretty certain the treasury is underneath the house. What have you got?’ Tommy got out a cigarette and lit it.</p><p>‘Our Ada,’ said John, smoothing out the documents on the table, ‘got this from the British Library using her scholar’s pass.’</p><p>Hal’s stomach knotted. He was just glad that none of them had needed to involve Stanley in this part of things. The boy would’ve done it, unsure of what exactly they were doing it all for. Though, from what John had told him that might not necessarily have been true. </p><p>‘She talks about her aunt,’ Tommy went on, ‘coming up the stairs to have breakfast in the morning, which means it has to be in the building somewhere.’</p><p>‘Wine cellar,’ said Arthur, pointing at the map as he traced a line through the house. ‘Septic. Kitchen cellar.’</p><p>‘And a tunnel under the river,’ noted John.</p><p>‘They don’t trust a soul in this country,’ said Tommy.</p><p>‘Smart,’ murmured Hal, earning a wry grin off John.</p><p>‘So my guess is,’ went on Tommy, ‘they’ve turned one of the cellars into a strong room. Did you find someone, Arthur?’</p><p>Arthur mumbled before saying, ‘Moss gave me this. Stefan Radischevsky. He’s a kid from Greet, lives in Cheltenham. Dad’s a Russian. He has dreams of owning a pub, but he’s got a record.’</p><p>‘Breaking and entering,’ read Tommy. ‘And he speaks Russian?’</p><p>‘Apparently so,’ said Hal, not they he knew how exactly they were going to verify what the lad had spoken <em>was </em>Russian and not some garble that none of them understood.</p><p>‘Their butler,’ announced Tommy, closing the file with a definitive <em>snap</em>, ‘drinks in a pub called the Masons Arms. Get to him, tell him who we are, offer him some money if he gives the kid a job in the ‘ouse.’</p><p>He’d barely got the start of his next sentence out when there was a knock on the door. In an instant, Hal was moving.</p><p>‘Wait,’ Tommy called, and Hal paused, knowing that it was a comment for both the knocking person and himself. ‘Talk to the kid, offer him one of the pubs we took off the Italians if he works in the house for four weeks, keeps his ears open. All right?’</p><p>There was a murmur of agreement from the others before Tommy called, ‘Come.’</p><p>Lizzie opened the door. ‘The executive committee of the union of bookies and allied trades will see you now, sir,’ she said, a slight smirk behind her voice.</p><p>Tommy glanced at the others, but John and Arthur were already moving to get their things. ‘Hal,’ he said, before Hal himself could make a move. ‘Speak to Luce. Ask her to do up one of the pubs so’s it’s a clean slate.’</p><p>Unease prickled down Hal’s back, but he nodded. What could possibly go wrong with Luce getting her mind on a new little project?</p><p>***</p><p>Stan chuckled, and the noise instantly put a smile on Luce’s face. After the ruckus of the Bull Ring, of the police coming to try and break the rally apart, even she had needed a little calm. The half an hour before his train was the perfect time for that – and she’d make up the time lost in the office if Michael hadn’t already sorted the accounts.</p><p>‘Pol did what?’ he asked, leaning further forwards on the picnic bench.</p><p>‘Shouted for revolution and overthrowing men,’ she said, her voice lilting with barely suppressed laughter. She’d felt a little bad at the time, with Polly’s own impassioned speech earning a greater crowd than that of Jessie Eden – who turned out to be Cece’s friend – but retelling the tale made her see the funnier side.</p><p>‘Oh God,’ complained Stan, leaning his head back so that his face was turned to the sky. ‘Lia’s gonna hate me for not calling her.’</p><p>‘I’ll invite her to the next one,’ Luce promised, and instantly she had his attention again. ‘What?’</p><p>Stan surveyed her for a moment, as if trying to make a decision, and then shook his head. ‘She’ll rip your arm off for that.’</p><p>Luce opened her mouth, but her reply was cut off by the arrival of Hal. It was strange, seeing him in Charlie’s Yard without John or any of the others. It sent an uncertain ripple of concern down her back.</p><p>Still, he shot them both a bright smile as he took his hat off and stuffed it into a pocket. There was an ease about him, but it did nothing to detract from Luce’s concerns at him being there. The closer he drew to them, the more lined with dislike his face seemed to be. But she knew it wasn’t about being there, it wasn’t about the fact he was interrupting their little reunion. Whatever news he’d come to share with them, that was the thing he didn’t like.</p><p>‘This is where you’ve been hiding,’ he greeted, stopping a little behind Stan. ‘You know Pol’s been looking for you. Wants to make sure you’ve got food for the journey.’</p><p>Stan shifted on the seat. ‘I thought she was nursing a hangover,’ he said, glancing sideways at Luce. She shrugged. If anyone could pull back from that kind of alcohol consumption in less than a couple of hours, it would be Polly Gray.</p><p>But, with a sigh, Stan stood up, his attention slipping absently to his watch. ‘I’ve got to get to the station.’</p><p>‘I’ll give you a lift,’ Hal said, raising a hand to stop Stan.</p><p>Perhaps things weren’t so bad.</p><p>Stanley surveyed him for a moment before hovering by the end of the table. Hal nodded once before looking to Luce.</p><p>‘How’d you like to decorate a pub?’</p><p>Luce cocked her head a little to one side. ‘You mean alongside working with Michael and coming here?’</p><p>The barest hint of a smile pulled at Hal’s lips; a genuine one. ‘It needs ripping apart and being a blank slate.’</p><p>Stan scoffed. ‘So exactly what you need after working with Michael!’</p><p>Luce chuckled, felt the smile growing. ‘I think that sounds like exactly what I need,’ she agreed, but still there was that uncertain feeling bubbling inside of her. She felt as though there was something more to all of this, but Hal was attempting to shield them from it. She wasn’t sure if she was grateful to be out of the loop or if it that only made her worry more.</p><p>Instead of dwelling on it for the moment, however, she moved around the table and placed a quick kiss on Stan’s cheek. She was grateful that he lent down for her.</p><p>‘See you soon,’ he vowed.</p><p>‘You better,’ she said, grinning as he and Hal walked away, leaving her to focus on fixing up the boat for Charlie.</p><p>***</p><p>Hal drummed idly on the steering wheel, his attention skimming the little fair that felt like the wrong kind of backdrop for whatever Tommy had planned. As usual, he was left somewhat in the dark about what this little journey was really for, but he didn’t mind too much. Cece was having tea with Jessie, and there was the promise of looking at wedding things when all this business was done with.</p><p>Still, his thoughts flicked back to Stan and Luce, to asking Luce to sort out the pub. He knew that eventually he’d have to explain to her that it was payment for someone, he owed her that kind of transparency. But she’d looked happy to have another thing to occupy her time. Without Stan around she’d been going on odd little trips – occasionally joined by Isaiah if only to curb his own concerns for her. Hal was beginning to worry that she might just disappear. Even with her links to Birmingham, none of them were quite enough to stop the lust for adventure that burnt inside of her. Nor, he assumed, were they enough to quench the sadness the city slowly became laced with for her.</p><p>Forcefully, Hal tightened his grip on the steering wheel, regained his focus on the fair. He was meant to be making sure no one snuck up on Tommy, to keep an eye out for familiar faces.</p><p>Specifically, for one Father Hughes.</p><p>He shook his head and got out of the car. Sitting cooped up was no way of helping, and Tommy had to know that. A bad feeling prickled across his skin. Tommy did know that, knew that better than anyone. He slammed the door with a little more force than was necessary, and glanced around to check that no one was paying him any attention. Luckily, the excitement for the fair was drawing eyes, was stirring up the imaginations of people and holding their attention better than anything else could.</p><p>‘You leave him alone,’ a shrill voice said, and instantly Hal’s attention was away from the fair and just further down the street than where he’d been sitting.</p><p>A woman was shielding a small boy behind her legs, his arms wrapped tightly around her. In front of her, with a red face and breath that Hal thought he could smell the stench of from where he was, a man was stumbling about.</p><p>Every fibre of Hal’s being lit with anger. He balled his hands, forced himself to listen. But it was a close run thing.</p><p>‘Or what?’ the man slurred, stumbling on uncertain legs down the street.</p><p>The woman stood a little straighter, an act of defiance.</p><p>A red rag to the bull.</p><p>Hal was moving before he’d even realised it. His hat was in his hands even before he reached the little scene.</p><p>The man hadn’t even made it towards the pair, too unsteady on his feet. Still, Hal punched him squarely in the jaw, sent him sprawling to the floor in one deft movement. The force of the hit echoed down his arm, but he didn’t care. He simply stood over the man, hat in hands and anger threatening to boil over completely.</p><p>‘Are you all right, Miss?’ he asked, not daring to take his eyes off the man on the floor as he struggled to get back up. He barely managed to prop himself on an elbow, slurred threats tumbling out of his mouth, before he fell back to the floor and the cycle started again.</p><p>‘Y –yes,’ the woman breathed, and Hal could have sworn that he heard the terrified questions of a child mingling with the blood pounding in his ears.</p><p>Hal nodded briefly before crouching over the man. While the lady and child were there he wouldn’t do anything, but it was difficult keeping his emotions in check. He’d already been a tightly coiled spring waiting for Tommy, feeling the time ticking away with no sign of his friend; but barely an hour had passed, and Tommy had assured him this wouldn’t take longer than that. This scene had been the action to tip him over the edge. Memories spurred him on, but he refused to bow down to them for the moment. He couldn’t let them have that kind of power over him.</p><p>‘You listen carefully,’ Hal said in a dangerous whisper, holding the man by the collar with one hand and pointing in his face with the other, cap clung tightly in his fist. ‘You don’t lay a hand on either of them. You don’t do anything to them if they say no. Do you understand?’</p><p>‘My family,’ the man spat.</p><p>Hal slapped him before he could stop himself. He heard the woman gasp, heard the child ask something else.</p><p>Slowly, the man looked at him with shock behind his eyes.</p><p>‘I said, do you understand?’</p><p>The man nodded, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak.</p><p>Hal held on for another moment. Part of him wanted to take the man and dump him in the middle of nowhere, give him time to reflect on his vow and what consequences might follow if he broke his word. To show the man that there was always someone prepared to do worse to him than he might do to the people he was supposed to look after. But he still had to keep an eye out for Tommy, make sure that he wasn’t going into anything without a person at his back.</p><p>So, with great force of will, Hal stood up, brushed himself down, and turned away from the drunkard on the floor. He glanced towards the woman and child, opened his mouth to say something, but no words came.</p><p>Instead, he muttered a quick apology – though what he was apologising for he didn’t quite know – before walking briskly back towards the car, really hoping that Tommy would hurry up.</p><p> </p><p>Unable to stand still, Hal had wandered around the fair. There was no sign of Tommy, and unease made a permanent home in the back of his mind. He should’ve gone after his friend, not the drunkard. But retrospect was an amazing thing. He searched everywhere, tried to subtly ask about if anyone had seen someone like Tommy, however it all came up blank.</p><p>He ran a hand through his hair. He knew that he’d fucked up. After so long managing to keep an eye on the Shelbys, to be a reliable form of backup, his own emotions might just have been the thing that made him slip up.</p><p>He’d even checked the little public restroom, but there’d been no sign in there of his friend. The place looked as though it had recently had a leak though, the sheer amount of water that was sitting on the floor.</p><p>Unsure of what else to do, Hal returned to the car. There was no way of knowing where Tommy might have gone, and no point in calling home because how could any of the others help? There wasn’t a single clue to what had happened.</p><p>As the sky gradually grew darker, Hal began to wonder if he was really so cut out for this life any more. Had he grown that little bit too complacent that it might just get one of his friends killed? It felt impossible, that anything could happen to the great Thomas Shelby, and yet that was exactly what he feared had happened.</p><p>He mentally cursed himself again for getting distracted, for not going with Tommy, for a multitude of other things that probably had nothing to do with the turn of events. He tried to force himself calm, to focus on the here and now in the hopes that he might just be able to clear his head to notice something, to figure out exactly what had happened. The whole while his heart hammered like a jackrabbit inside his chest.</p><p>He’d almost given up hope, almost turned to head for the telephone box and call home, calling in reinforcements, but the limping figure making a beeline for the car reignited it.</p><p>‘Fuck,’ Hal greeted Tommy with as he ducked under his arm and helped his injured friend to the car. ‘Tommy –’</p><p>‘Need to go home,’ Tommy said through gritted teeth, voice slightly blurry from an injury that was seeping blood down his forehead.</p><p>‘You need to go to the hospital, Tom,’ Hal insisted.</p><p>Tommy gripped his arm painfully. He raised his eyes to meet Hal’s, and seemed to dredge up enough strength from that infinite reserve of authority he had to say, ‘Need to get rid of all the soldiers.’</p><p>Hal opened his mouth to argue, but knew better than to try. Not only was he never going to talk Tommy out of his decision, but he didn’t want to waste any more of his friend’s strength.</p><p>Instead he simply nodded and helped Tommy limp back to the car, trying the whole while to ignore the guilt that was slowly eating at him.</p><p>***</p><p>Luce frowned as she tested the little slip of paper she’d painted against the dark wood of the kitchen table. Charlie was eating his breakfast, and despite Mary’s insistences that she could go back to the city, Luce hadn't wanted to leave. The pub could wait, Michael and the accounts could wait. Tommy still wasn’t back, and that made her uneasy.</p><p>The door banged open, and Luce glanced up. She expected to see Mary, to be shot a somewhat disapproving look because she was there when the maids were more than capable of looking after the toddler. What she hadn’t expected was to see Hal.</p><p>‘What happened?’ she asked, standing up quickly. She heard Charlie cooing at her, but for once didn’t look back to check on him. Her attention instead skimmed Hal; he looked a little shocked, startled into silence by something.</p><p>Slowly, he shook his head. ‘Tommy wants to see you.’</p><p>‘Hal,’ she started, but she didn’t know what she wanted to ask. Fear slid down her back. She’d never seen Hal look so shaken, especially not when noting that Tommy wanted to see her. It set off every alarm bell she had. Part of her was already wondering if she couldn’t just run away from this and never look back.</p><p>‘He’s in his study.’</p><p>She swallowed, nodded, and hurried up the stairs before she could talk herself out of it. She was barely halfway up when she heard Hal drop into a seat.</p><p>Her feet felt like blocks of lead as she forced herself to walk to Tommy’s office. All number of problems – starting with the Italians and finishing with an account book not quite adding up – flickered through her brain like a zoetrope. With numb fingers she knocked on the door.</p><p>‘Come in.’</p><p>There was something different about Tommy’s voice, something that she couldn’t put her finger on but which dislodged a little of the fear. It wasn’t anger or even a scary calm.</p><p>Luce pushed the door open and stepped through. She’d barely made it into the room when she spotted Tommy behind his desk. His face was ashen, gleaming with sweat. And she could have sworn that there was a dark mark pocking out from the shade of his cap.</p><p>‘Tommy,’ she breathed, causing his unfocused gaze to turn her way. It wasn’t the sharp look she’d been expecting, there was something almost laboured about it.</p><p>He waved a dismissive hand at her before allowing it to drop to the table.</p><p>Or unable to keep it in place.</p><p>‘Stay with Charlie,’ he said, words slurring ever so slightly.</p><p>‘Tommy, you need –’</p><p>‘Promise me,’ he barked. There was so much urgency behind his voice that she took an uncertain step away from him. His eyes were searching her, but she didn’t know if that was to do with his injuries or his real attempt to figure out if she would do it.</p><p>The words felt stuck in her throat. She wanted to tell him to go to the doctor, ask if she could do anything, but she knew that he’d be resolute on his answers. He’d only keep making sure that she’d look after Charlie.</p><p>Luce cleared her throat. ‘I promise,’ she said, hearing the roughness to her own voice. She’d seen worse, but there was an odd kind of horror seeing the practically invincible Thomas Shelby like this. She’d known of it happening once before at the hands of Sabini, but otherwise he was virtually untouchable.</p><p>Tommy nodded, grunted an acceptance of her word before moving to shakily light a cigarette. It was enough of a dismissal for Luce to hurry out of the room, eager to get her breath back before she headed to look out for Charlie.</p><p>She just hoped that Hal might be able to talk a little sense into the man. However, the more she thought about it the more doubtful she became of how successful he’d be. After all, Tommy was sat in his office instead of getting looked at by a doctor. Really, that said it all.</p><p>***</p><p>‘He’s here,’ said Stan, his heart thundering inside his chest as he saw the figure outside. He knew in an instant it was Tommy, and yet it was Ada that got to the door first.</p><p>‘My God, Tommy,’ she said as Stan skidded around the doorframe.</p><p>Tommy looked bad. Even with his cap hung low over his eyes his face was pallid. Blood marked from his hairline down one side of his face, and he practically stumbled into the hallway.</p><p>‘Do you have cocaine?’ asked Tommy, leaning heavily on the wall as he moved towards the stairs.</p><p>‘No,’ said Ada, glancing back at Stan.</p><p>‘Tommy, what happened?’ he asked, but their brother merely sighed as he forced himself onwards. ‘He’s hurt,’ he noted, unnecessarily as he caught Ada’s arm. ‘Try and get him to sit down.’</p><p>Ada barely nodded before following their elder brother through the house. Stan, on the other hand, moved swiftly back into the study. He’d left his practice kit in there, and he’d be damned if he didn’t try using it to make sure his brother was OK. No matter what Tommy might have said to the contrary.</p><p>It felt as though the world was spinning around him. His mind flitted through all the possibilities. <em>Pain</em>. That was one thing he knew Tommy must be in. It was the only reason he’d have asked for cocaine. His hand slipped on the bag. It almost tumbled to the floor but he quickly caught it and hurried up the stairs.</p><p>He hovered at the door, knowing that Tommy being Tommy to show weakness would undermine everything. He wanted to bash the door down, get in there and make him see sense. But –</p><p>‘Jeeze, Tom,’ he cursed as Ada helped their brother out the door; it had taken him longer than expected to rifle through his kit, longer still to realise that he was truly unprepared for anything like this. Stanley ducked under his other arm in an instant. Sweat slicked Tommy’s pale face. Blood still clung to his skin. ‘You need to sit.’</p><p>‘No,’ Tommy said, urging them onwards simply by moving. He was determined to keep going, and together they helped him to the stairs.</p><p>Stanley didn’t need to see the injury hidden by the cap to know that it was probably terrible. The consequences of it were too extreme for it to be anything else.</p><p>‘Tommy, you might’ve –’</p><p>‘Stop, stop,’ murmured Tommy, crouching slightly while they were still on the stairs.</p><p>Together, they eased him to sit on a step; Stan crouched on the one above him, Ada crouched in front. Stan could see the fear behind her eyes.</p><p>‘Drive me to a hospital,’ Tommy said, resting the crown of his head against the wall.</p><p>‘Concussion? Fracture?’ mused Stan, wanting to reach out and remove Tommy’s hat but knowing that it was probably best left there for the moment. It might cushion him slightly, and Stan was determined to try anything that might protect Tommy even a little.</p><p>Tommy grunted. ‘Tell them that if I’m not conscious when I get there; fractured skull and internal bleeding. I think I may have haemorrhaged.’</p><p>‘Shit, Tommy!’ said Stan, unable to keep the vague shrillness from his voice. Anything that he might have been taught suddenly flew out of the window. Because this was his brother, and he refused to lose him. He’d been too slow to do anything for Grace, not practiced enough. He couldn’t go through that again.</p><p>‘Tommy,’ Ada breathed.</p><p>‘Go on,’ Tommy encouraged. ‘Be quick because I can’t see.’</p><p>‘OK,’ sobbed Ada before hurrying off.</p><p>‘I can’t fucking see.’</p><p>In an instant, Stanley moved to be in front of his brother. ‘Tom, I need you to keep talking to me,’ he said, trying to keep his voice steady but hearing the waver to it himself. ‘Don’t go to sleep.’</p><p>‘Except for you, Dad,’ Tommy mumbled, as if not even realising that Stanley was there, that he’d rested a terrified hand on his brother’s knee. ‘I can see you.’</p><p>‘Eyes open, Tom,’ said Stanley, nudging his knee, checking his laboured breathing as if terrified that any minute it might suddenly stop, and he’d be left alone on the stairs. ‘Tom?’ he asked, a cold shiver of dread running down his back. He mentally willed Ada to hurry up, uncertain to how much longer Tommy – dear stubborn Tommy – could hold on for.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter Five: Brother Dear</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Luce carefully toyed with Charlie’s hand, but for once her attention wasn’t on the toddler, it was on Stan. He looked pallid, there was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead and yet there was a determined set to his shoulders that made pride blossom in her chest. Despite everything, he knew that his brother was going to pull through. His own training had helped him make sure the doctors knew more than enough information to make sure Tommy’s chances were good. He’d been there for Ada to lean on when they took Tommy away. And yet, she could tell that he was still torturing himself for not having done enough. In fact, she was pretty sure that now Tommy’s release was imminent, Stan was doing it all over again, blaming himself that it had taken so long for his brother to get better.</p><p>She didn’t want to think about Hal, about the devastation she’d seen on his face in the kitchen that night. It was unbearable. Yet it was all still etched irrevocably in her memory.</p><p>Footsteps on the stairs drew her attention that way. She heard the low whisper of voices, and was a little surprised to see Isaiah and Michael entering the kitchen.</p><p>‘Thought you’d be in London,’ Michael greeted.</p><p>Stan scoffed bitterly but didn’t say anything. His attention slipped back to the cup of tea he’d been nursing.</p><p>Luce bristled. ‘Some people have hearts, Michael,’ she said, not bothering to hide the ice behind her voice. His attention slipped slowly towards her, appraisingly. Beside him, Isaiah chuckled softly.</p><p>Michael’s eyes narrowed, but it was going to take more than that to diminish her irritation at him. She straightened in her seat, felt Charlie’s fingers curl a little tighter around her own. She could practically see a pragmatic answer building, and instead turned her attention to Isaiah.</p><p>‘Are you staying for lunch?’</p><p>He shook his head sombrely. ‘Thought you were working on the pub.’</p><p>‘After everything –?’</p><p>‘Maybe we should.’ Stan’s voice was soft, and yet still it carried with it a kind of authority that Luce had never heard before. Slowly, he raised his attention from the mug and towards the rest of them. ‘Something else to think about.’</p><p>‘Some of us have real work to do,’ came Michael’s reply.</p><p>Luce waved his comment off by waggling her fingers over her shoulder. ‘You want to help strip the place?’ She searched Stan’s face for signs of disagreement. Being stuck indoors had never been his idea of a relaxing time, nor exactly hers, and yet perhaps that was the exact reason that he needed this. He didn’t need to be lost in the peace of animals, he needed to distract himself completely.</p><p>Stan’s eyes met hers and he nodded.</p><p>In an instant, Luce was up. She startled a small noise from Charlie and quickly crouched back down, a small smile on her face. ‘Sorry baby,’ she murmured, seeing the tears brimming, the moment of shock becoming a tantrum of sorts. ‘Do you want –?’</p><p>‘No.’ Michael’s voice was sharp. ‘Charles stays here.’</p><p>Luce wanted to argue, but for once she knew that he probably had a point. Charlie was better off in the house, in a place that he knew well and where people wouldn’t be distracted by doing other things.</p><p>‘I’ll get Mary,’ Isaiah said, clapping Michael on the shoulder before rushing back up the stairs. Luce glanced briefly back at Stan and really hoped that this might just be the distraction that he needed.</p><p>***</p><p>With a grunt, Stan straightened and forcefully wiped his arm across his forehead. Papering over the wall with a white backing had been Luce’s idea, an attempt to properly make the place a clean slate, and yet it was harder work than she’d sold it to him as. Not that he was complaining, it just shocked him slightly.</p><p>‘How’d you do this?’ he asked, glancing over at her. She was sat on the bar, carefully varnishing the wood of the nearby doorframe.</p><p>A small smirk curled her lips. She continued painting for a moment before she turned to face him. ‘Never did,’ she admitted, and he could hear the barely suppressed amusement behind her voice. It flickered ever so slightly before she said, ‘Dad did it.’</p><p>‘You just watched,’ he said, rolling his eyes.</p><p>‘Before going out on adventures, yeah,’ she said, turning her attention back towards the painting again.</p><p>He watched her for a moment, idly wondered how she’d survived months in an office with Michael, before turning his attention back to the task at hand.</p><p>The amicable silence that filled the space between them was only broken by the sound of the gramophone. Every so often, Luce would stop what she was doing and quickly change the record, or help Stan with the wallpapering. She’d occasionally fill the quiet between them with plans of adventures, of places that she dreamed to go. All of it worked to pull Stan’s thoughts away from his concerns for Tommy. The last he’d heard his brother was doing well. The doctor’s had been blunt with him about the treatments – which he’d hurriedly written down for his own records. Not that he could read over them just yet.</p><p>Their peace was shattered when the door opened. Stan straightened in an instant, and he heard Luce jump to the floor from her perch on a table. Isaiah stood framed in the main door, a look of mild irritation on his face. The look softened as his attention skimmed between the two of them. But there was something like pity behind his eyes.</p><p>‘What’s happened?’ Stan asked, feeling a little of the strength leaving his legs. Every possible problem with Tommy seemed to flick through his mind, each more dire than the last.</p><p>Isaiah shook his head ever so slightly, his attention remained on Luce. He worked his jaw for a couple of seconds, as if weighing up what to say.</p><p>‘Isaiah?’ she asked softly, gently putting the paintbrush back in the pot.</p><p>He closed his eyes, looked down for half a beat before meeting her eyes. ‘What’s your mother’s name?’</p><p>Luce gave a little start; confusion pinched her brow. ‘Why?’</p><p>‘Luce,’ Isaiah insisted, taking a step further into the pub.</p><p>‘Anne.’</p><p>‘Shit,’ Isaiah cursed bitterly, his hands instantly removing his cap. He toyed with it for a moment.</p><p>The room held its breath.</p><p>‘Why?’ Luce asked again, taking a step closer. Stan instinctively moved towards her.</p><p>Instead of answering, Isaiah pushed open the door. He jerked his head into the pub.</p><p>A second later a woman entered. She held her jacket close to her, her handbag even closer. Her wild curly hair framed a kindly face which was marred with signs of grief. Her eyes were Luce’s though, warm and brown and yet this older lady’s were filled with more loss than Luce’s ever had been. Hopefully ever would be, Stan thought and instantly regretted it as being harsh.</p><p>‘M – Mum?’ Luce stammered.</p><p>‘Lucinda,’ Mrs Turner breathed, and she was across the pub in a matter of moments, too quick for Isaiah to step in her way, to prevent the movement. Still, he raised his hand as if he wanted to stop it. The woman pulled Luce into a tight hug, and Stan could have sworn that he heard the soft sound of sobbing.</p><p>Slowly, coming out of her shock, Luce wound her arms around her mother.</p><p>Stan took a slight step towards Isaiah, shot him a warning look.</p><p>‘Oh baby,’ sobbed Mrs Turner.</p><p>‘Mum, what’s happened?’ Luce asked, her face pressed into her mother’s hair voice slightly muffled.</p><p>Instead of answering, Mrs Turner just sobbed harder. Stan could see her shoulders shaking, the motion even seeming to rock Luce.</p><p>‘Mum?’ Fear touched the edges of Luce’s voice, setting every fibre of Stan’s being alight. He didn’t like this one bit. Beside him, he felt Isaiah tensing.</p><p>‘Your – your brother,’ Mrs Turner said.</p><p>Luce carefully pried herself away from her mother. For a moment, Stan could see the terror behind her eyes, saw the concern. But she stifled the look so that she could look to her mother inquiringly, try not to make things worse because of an overactive imagination and a knowledge of things that her mother probably hoped she didn’t know about.</p><p>Mrs Turner sniffed, held onto Luce’s arms like a drowning person might. ‘He’s dead.’</p><p>***</p><p>Hal walked a little behind the others, his attention skittering all across the factory floor. His nerves were alive, watching out for something that might seem even the slightest bit out of the ordinary. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. Every flicker of light grabbed his attention; drew his eye that way and held it for a moment before the next one flared to life. The noise made it near impossible to hear any approaching footsteps, and yet still Hal thought that he’d be able to hear the noise as if it were a gunshot in the middle of a quiet afternoon.</p><p>Three months and he was still punishing himself for not having gotten to Tommy sooner. For getting distracted. That singular moment felt as though it were all part of a plan.</p><p>They moved to a quieter part of the factory, where all the tanks were already waiting to be loaded up. Curly was inside one, passing things out to Charlie that Hal didn’t really care about. Even in the still, quiet alleys of vehicles – ones that he knew Cece would have adored to see – he was on edge. Even with five of them – Arthur and John nearby – he didn’t like having the other lad with them.</p><p>‘Without the firing pins,’ said Charlie, Hal was vaguely aware of his voice, ‘the guns won’t work.’</p><p>‘And there are no replacements?’ the lad asked, his accent still with that twinge of Russian behind it.</p><p>‘They don’t make these anymore,’ said Charlie simply, attention distracted by the pins themselves. ‘These are the end of the line.’</p><p>‘Yeah, we have the foreman take out all the spares,’ admitted John once he’d caught the thing. He flicked it across to the lad.</p><p>‘Take the pins,’ Hal said distractedly, ‘and they’ll never fire a shot.’</p><p>Charlie made a sound of almost proud agreement.</p><p>‘Nobody’ll know until they unload the bloody things in Tbilisi,’ said Arthur.</p><p>‘Or until they are facing our guns at Kutaisi,’ said the lad, and Hal cringed ever so slightly from the smile he could hear behind his voice. ‘Take them all out and give them to me.’</p><p>‘Oh, come on, boys, no fucking about,’ said John, sounding very slightly exasperated.</p><p>‘And I will tell the Soviet Ambassador that here is no longer a need to blow up the train,’ the young Russian said.</p><p>‘And I will tell Tommy you accept his plan,’ countered Arthur. Hal heard him spit onto his glove, and knew that the Russian must have accepted from the lack of argument.</p><p>***</p><p>Stan had always thought that going to London with Luce would be an adventure. That she’d finally exorcise the ghosts the city held for her and would be excited to show him all the places she loved. He had never in his dizziest of daydreams thought that they would be returning to the city under such horrible circumstances. He hadn’t thought that when they stepped off the train it was because she needed him.</p><p><em>‘You don’t have to come,’ </em>she’d said, voice hoarse from tears none of them had seen. Her back had been to him as she folded clothes into her bag mere hours after her mother’s arrival. It was testament to how much she trusted Isaiah that he was sitting with her mother in main room of her rooms – still tucked neatly above the Garrison. <em>‘Tommy –’</em></p><p><em>‘Tommy’ll go straight to business,’ </em>Stan had said, and for once it didn’t bother him. His brother had plenty of people looking out for him, people that he wouldn’t so much as lean on even when things were at their toughest. But who did Luce have?</p><p>She had him, that was for sure.</p><p>Now, he waited as she stood at the door of the train. Indecision seemed to grip her, even as her mother waited on the platform for her. Even now she was back in the city that had helped raise her, the city she had wanted to come back to and yet couldn’t, she faltered.</p><p>Stan wished that he could tell her it was all right, that they’d do this another time. But there was no other time. It had taken almost a week for Mrs Turner to get to them, and for them to go back to London. Wilf’s funeral was in a few short hours, and Luce had been determined to be there, determined to say goodbye to one of her ghosts.</p><p>Without looking, she reached out for his hand, and in an instant Stan gripped hold of her. She squeezed his hand hard, so tightly that he feared his fingers might just lose circulation. But he didn’t say anything. He merely followed her off the train as she took a step she thought she would never have to make under circumstances like these.</p><p>***</p><p>The sound of Cece clattering around the kitchen greeted Hal as he returned home that evening. For a moment, he stood in the hallway and listened to the noise, imagining what it would be like if this was his life. With no Shelbys, no Russian plots and without violence around every corner. He wondered if he would be able to cope with it, or if he’d be one of those that jumped at every sound, thinking that something else was about to happen. Perhaps men like him weren’t destined for the quiet lives that he and the others were trying to forge for themselves amongst all the darkness. Maybe they were all a little like Danny Whiz-Bang, just better at holding in the things that plagued them.</p><p>With a sigh, he pushed off the wall and headed into the living room. He stripped off his gun belt, tucked it carefully into a drawer, and put his cap on top of it. Cece was humming gently, occasionally singing the few lines of the old Welsh song that he was vaguely getting to know himself.</p><p>‘Ce?’ he asked, not wanting to startle her too much.</p><p>‘Kitchen,’ came her reply, and he felt a small smirk curling his lips.</p><p>He stood in the doorway and watched as she flitted around the small space. He wasn’t sure what she was cooking, but it smelled nice. He thought it must have been some recipe Grace had taught her, one that she hadn’t yet had the chance to test out.</p><p>She glanced briefly over her shoulder at him, a smile on her face as she got back to work.</p><p>Hal moved to place a soft kiss on the side of her head. ‘Smells delicious,’ he praised, not bothering to step back just yet.</p><p>She chuckled softly, and he felt the sound vibrating through her. She got a spoonful of the broth from the bowl and offered it out to him. ‘Willing volunteer?’</p><p>‘Always,’ he assured her before gently taking the spoon. It wasn’t terrible, but there was a slightly sharper kick to it than he’d been expecting. He spluttered ever so slightly, causing a wicked grin to spread across her face.</p><p>‘Too spicy?’ she asked innocently.</p><p>‘Warning would’ve been nice,’ he countered, still spluttering as he went to the sink and got himself a glass of water.</p><p>Cecily shrugged, turned her attention back towards the food. ‘You getting plates out?’</p><p>‘Yes Ma’am,’ he teased, smirking as she rolled her eyes at him. This, he thought, he could get used to. Perhaps after this job they might all get the peace that they were looking for.</p><p>***</p><p>Luce felt empty. If it wasn’t for the pressure of Stan’s hand in hers she was worried she might simply just disappear. Everything around her was silent, drowned out by the rush of blood in her ears. Her father stood at the front, giving a eulogy none of them had ever expected. Wilf had survived… No that wasn’t right, he’d come out of the War alive. He wasn’t meant to die in a drunken brawl with strangers. It simply wasn’t fair.</p><p>A sob tore through her before Luce could hold it in. Her father’s voice, she vaguely knew, faltered. Yet he held firm, continued speaking even as a stutter made his words harder to follow. Luce’s free hand went to her mouth, held her lips as if she could hold in any other sounds. Stan’s hand tightened around hers.</p><p>Beside her, Luce’s mother sat as still as a statue. She felt almost cold, but Luce was barely aware of it. Her eyes locked on her brother’s casket. Part of her wouldn’t even be angry if this was all a ploy to get her to stay home. If Wilfred turned up, grinned at her but was alive despite how all of this looked, she might even accept the idea of heading home.</p><p>An idle daydream, she knew, but part of her lived in hope.</p><p>Still, she willed herself to wake up from this nightmare.</p><p>Even when the service was over, when they were listening to the softly spoken condolences of others, Luce didn’t feel like any of it was real. People she vaguely remembered commented on how much she’d grown, asked about who Stanley was by her side throughout. They mentioned memories of Wilf, moments before the War. Nobody seemed to talk about how he’d been afterwards.</p><p>‘<em>Le nostre condoglianze</em>.<sub></sub><sup>1</sup>’</p><p>The voice jolted Luce to attention. After what felt like days just letting words wash over her, she turned to see a man dressed in a fancy suit. She didn’t recognise him, but there was something about the air of him which made her certain he was one of Sabini’s men.</p><p>Luce bristled. Beside her, Stan went rigid. They were too far away from the rest of the crowd for anyone to notice the shift in the atmosphere.</p><p>The man surveyed them coolly. ‘I am merely here to say goodbye,’ he said simply, but Luce could have sworn his hand hovered by his hip.</p><p>Stan gave her hand a warning squeeze, but Luce ignored it. ‘Goodbye,’ she said simply before turning away from the man. Her heart thundered in her chest. She heard more muttered Italian but ignored it. Instead, she pulled Stan towards the rest of the funeral procession and really wished that this day would end.</p><p> </p><p>The Turner house felt even more unfamiliar than the day she’d left. Luce realised as the car pulled up outside. There had been a time when just seeing the street calmed her, when it brought a smile to her face knowing it would be there to allow her recuperation time between adventures. Now, seeing it and knowing just how much things had changed, it felt as though a sliver of ice had formed in her heart. It wasn’t home anymore. Home was wherever she wanted it to be, wherever her closest friends were.</p><p>‘You grew up here?’ Stan asked, voice reverently soft. Despite everything Luce picked up on the slight edge of awe to his voice. She latched onto it, needing desperately to escape intrusive thoughts; to ignore the urge to run and never look back again.</p><p>She shook her head. ‘It was my stop off,’ she admitted as the car pulled to a stop. ‘Maybe I’ll show you the canal where…’ Her throat burnt, tears threatened to blur her vision, and yet she had to keep going, had to say the words lest she lose the ability forever. ‘Where Wilf always had to come get me and Sy from.’</p><p>Stan replied by giving her hand a squeeze. ‘We’re here as long as you need,’ he vowed as she felt more tears rolling down her cheeks.</p><p>***</p><p>As they washed up, Hal could tell there was something eating at Cece. She’d been talkative and cheerful throughout the meal, as usual, and yet now…</p><p>‘Ce, you all right?’ he asked softly, carefully putting the saucepan on the side.</p><p>Cecily heaved an unusually deep sigh. ‘Esme and Linda were talking about the babies,’ she said, wringing the tea towel in her hands.</p><p>Hal’s heart skipped a beat. This was a conversation they’d been dancing around for a while now. He knew that it was going to come, with wedding conversations making everything seem a lot more real, a lot closer than he’d ever allowed himself to think about before. And yet, it was a conversation that he didn’t feel prepared for in the slightest.</p><p>Carefully, as if it might allow him to catch his breath, Hal leant back on the counter and watched Cece. She wrapped the towel around her hands, attention on it, before allowing it to unravel. She lifted her gaze to meet his. He could see something warring behind her eyes, saw the moment that the decision was made.</p><p>‘Do you want kids?’ The bluntness of the question caused Hal to scoff ever so slightly.</p><p>‘It’s not as simple as that.’</p><p>‘Why?’ she asked, expression softening. ‘Why can’t it be?’</p><p>Hal desperately wished it was. He wanted kids, there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted a family with Cece; he thought that she’d be an incredible mother. And yet there was a fear in him that he couldn’t overcome. He didn’t want to ruin it for her.</p><p>He didn’t want to become his father.</p><p>‘Henry,’ she said gently, moving to place a caressing hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her. There was a certainty behind her eyes that allowed a little of the concerns to recede. ‘You’re not him. You’ll never be him.’</p><p>‘Why?’ he asked, voice little more than a desperate whisper. All he could see was the darkness that clung to him, the things he’d done in wartime and not. He may not have had the same vices as his father, but they were related.</p><p>
  <em>Like father like son.</em>
</p><p>A small smile curled her lips. ‘Because you are not your father,’ she assured him simply. ‘You are a far better man than your father ever was, and that’s because of you. Because of this.’ She placed a firm hand on his chest, right over his thundering heart.</p><p>He searched her face, looking for a sliver of uncertainty, the barest trace of fear that he might just lapse into the same horrors as his father. He thought he might see his own fears echoed in her expression, and that would be enough to keep his mind resolute on not having children.</p><p>And yet he saw none of that. All he saw was her absolute belief in the words that she had said, in how she felt about it all.</p><p>That was what he held onto as he moved to place a kiss on her lips, his hand tangling with hers on his chest.</p><p>‘Yes,’ he murmured against her lips as he pulled back ever so slightly. ‘I want kids with you, Cecily Hawthorne.’</p><p>‘Cecily Brandon,’ she tested with a slight giggle.</p><p>Hal beamed. ‘Cecily Brandon,’ he agreed before pulling her in for another kiss.</p><p>***</p><p>Stan watched Luce. She sat on the other side of Ada’s kitchen table, a cup of coco in her hands but left completely untouched. Her dark eyes were downcast to the surface, as if it might just hold all the answers and reassurances that she needed. She’d said her goodbyes to her parents just after ten, unable to stay in the house despite her mother’s pleas that she sleep there. He could see the decision breaking Luce’s heart, and yet she’d been resolute. It was too soon, too much in one go. Too many ghosts stalked the halls of the house; somehow, now more than ever.</p><p>‘Is she going to be all right? Ada asked, voice pitched low despite how she spoke in Romani. She probably could’ve shouted the question in English. Stan didn’t think that Luce’s attention was in the room with them.</p><p>‘Yes,’ Stan said with as much conviction as he could muster. She was Lucinda Turner, she had to be all right.</p><p>Ada patted his shoulder gently before taking up the free seat beside Luce. Luce shifted ever so slightly at the noise, but didn’t look to either of them.</p><p>‘I’ll go back to Birmingham tomorrow,’ she said, voice hollow.</p><p>‘Luce,’ chastised Ada gently.</p><p>But Luce was shaking her head. ‘I can’t stay in London. Not now.’</p><p>Stan had a feeling that she couldn’t stay anywhere at the moment. He’d seen the look that lingered behind her eyes once before. It was her look of needing to run, to get away from everything familiar. It felt like a punch to the gut, seeing that look and not knowing how to help her, how to bring her back.</p><p>‘What about America?’</p><p>Ada’s question was so out of the blue, Stan looked at her sharply.</p><p>‘Sorry?’ Luce asked, confusion winning out over everything else.</p><p>For a moment, Ada was silent, as if the question had shocked her as well, but her shoulders settled and Stan knew that she realised this was the right thing to do.</p><p>‘Tommy wants me to go to America, to look at property,’ she admitted, leaning forwards on the table, her attention resolutely on Luce. ‘You’ve been over there, you know –’</p><p>‘When?’ asked Luce.</p><p>Ada nodded ever so slightly. ‘A few months at best.’</p><p>Stan could practically see the cogs whirling in Luce’s head, weighing up everything.</p><p>‘You don’t have to make a decision now,’ said Ada quickly, casting a brief glance to Stan. ‘But the offer’s there.’</p><p>‘Thank you,’ said Luce, before shifting her attention back to the cup in front of her.</p><p>Ada’s attention remained on her for a second longer before she looked to Stan. She gave him a small nod.</p><p>A little of the concern in Stan’s chest loosened. She was doing this for both of them, that much he knew; neither of them were going to lose Luce.</p><p>‘Thank you,’ he whispered, and from the small smile on her lips he knew that Ada had heard him.</p><p> </p><p>1 – Our condolences.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter Six: Taken</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hal walked with the others, but his thoughts were far from the job at hand. In fact, his thoughts kept creeping back to the wedding, to the decorations Cece had adorned the kitchen table with only that morning. She and Luce had been excitable bundles of energy, and it was a mystery to him how either of them were staying calm while this other big announcement was made. A glance over at them, at the way their heads were bowed low together, he assumed that their thoughts were as far from everything as his own. Even Charlie, held tightly by Luce for the moment, looked as though he were trying to join in.</p><p>Hal forced his attention back to the moment though. There was work to do; work that when finished would make the whole thing that little bit sweeter. The wedding was their celebration, of sorts. One that he hoped Stan might just come back for.</p><p>The photograph was taken, Hal blinked away the smoke of the camera before following the others into the hallowed halls of their new endeavour.</p><p> </p><p>‘Welcome,’ started Polly once they were inside. Hal kept glancing over his shoulder, trying to make sure that Cece and the others were there. She had wanted to sit near the back, away from the family and everything that it meant; Hal was just glad that Luce was with her. Her red hair a beacon in the crowd.</p><p>John nudged his shoulder, a smirk on his face as he nodded almost reverently towards Polly on the stage. ‘Focus, soldier,’ he teased, but Hal merely shrugged the notion away and glanced back towards the doors.</p><p>Cece was frowning ever so slightly, her attention skittering over the stage as if looking for the lie of this moment. It didn’t matter that he’d told her this was legitimate, this was Tommy’s attempt to do something good. She didn’t buy into it.</p><p>Still, she was there, and for that he was grateful.</p><p>‘I would very much like you to join me,’ went on Polly, and Hal was sure that he’d missed something even as he turned back to the stage, ‘in thanking the man that made the founding of this establishment actually possible. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Thomas Shelby.’</p><p>A round of applause went around the room as Tommy stood, Charles in his arms.</p><p>‘Speech!’ yelled Arthur. The noise in the room increased as people started standing. ‘Come on, speech!’</p><p>Tommy handed Charles to Ada, who hurried him away to the side of the room.</p><p>‘Say it, Tom. Say it to ‘em!’ encouraged Arthur.</p><p>‘Lay the foundation!’ added Hal, a wry smile on his face as he glanced to John.</p><p>‘Lay the kindling!’ John said, a moment before they all started sitting, as Tommy made himself comfortable behind the raised lectern.</p><p>‘Um, I didn’t come here today to make a speech, but I will say this. These children are now safe. In our care, they will be safe,’ vowed Tommy. ‘Because we are from the same cold streets as they are.  And in our care, they won’t be shipped away to the colonies. Or separated from kin. Or made to work for men in their various ways. They will grow up here. At home. Loved. In Birmingham. Because this is our city.’</p><p>‘By order of the Peaky Blinders,’ called Arthur. ‘Get up!’</p><p>Another round of applause started, and slowly people followed Arthur’s instruction. Hal noticed, however, Moss sitting in front of them. From the angle he was at, he could tell the policeman wasn’t happy. But, he also knew that he’d do nothing. Especially not here.</p><p>Tommy nodded briefly before leaving the stage, making a beeline for the door. Polly took his place in an instant.</p><p>‘Now, let us sing <em>Immortal Invisible</em>.’</p><p>And with that, the music started and the hymns began. And for once, Hal felt a small smile playing on his lips. They were really starting something, something that might benefit the city. Make sure more children got the childhoods that they deserved, rather than the barest minimum they could scrape together.</p><p>***</p><p>Luce watched as Cece grinned, her arm looped through Hal’s. She was only here for him, to be his rock in the storm that was the latest Shelby endeavour. Even from here, the ring on her finger glistened, a promise that she usually looped around a chain at her neck if she was working on motors.</p><p>‘Do you want me to take him?’ a voice snapped Luce’s attention away from the rest of the room and towards an unfamiliar face. The elderly woman was smiling, her hands reaching slightly towards Charlie.</p><p>Luce shook her head, shifted the toddler on her hip. She’d only had him for a couple of minutes, since Tommy had handed him over for more photographs or something – an interview, possibly. ‘It’s OK. But thank you,’ she said, gently blowing at Charlie’s cheek and causing him to chuckle.</p><p>The woman hovered for a moment before nodding and disappearing back into the crowd.</p><p>‘New friend?’ Michael teased, offering her out a cup of tea.</p><p>She rolled her eyes and awkwardly took the drink with a mumbled thank you. ‘She was asking about if you were courting anyone. I told her she could meet you.’</p><p>Michael sneered at her, but she could see a slight tension in his shoulders. His gaze drifted around the room, as if looking for something. Or someone.</p><p>‘Are you OK?’</p><p>Michael gave her a curt nod. ‘Don’t expect more of those,’ he said, gesturing idly towards the cup. ‘And mingle!’ He called the last over his shoulder, as he moved away to do just that.</p><p>Luce rolled her eyes. She knew that she was supposed to be on duty, knew that she was supposedly meant to be talking to people who might just be able to give them more money for the whole endeavour, but she really didn’t feel like it. Despite all the noise, despite the constant chatter, she didn’t feel like wearing the false smiles that were required. At least if she stayed with Charlie she was doing something useful, something to try keeping her mind off the fact London now housed more horrors for her than before.</p><p>‘Penny for your thoughts?’ Isaiah asked softly, gently ruffling the hair on Charlie’s head.</p><p>‘Only a penny? Personally, I think they’re worth more than that,’ she joked, a genuine smile tugging at her lips.</p><p>Isaiah moved so that he was standing in front of her. ‘Really?’ He arched an eyebrow at her.</p><p>‘For sure. They don’t revolve around money.’</p><p>He gasped. ‘They don’t? I thought that was all you partner accountants thought about.’</p><p>She gently tapped his foot with her own, unable to shove his shoulder.</p><p>‘Is that any example for Charles to follow?’ he asked, mockingly frowning at his foot as if she’d truly hurt him.</p><p>‘Isaiah?’ John called from across the room before either of them could say anything more.</p><p>‘Go,’ Luce said, seeing the warring of to stay or to go written across his face. ‘I’ll catch up with you.’</p><p>‘Want me to take him?’</p><p>‘I’m good, but thank you,’ she said, awkwardly taking another sip of the tea. It was too sweet, so she sighed and put it on the side as Isaiah stalked away.</p><p>‘Excuse me, Miss?’ A young man hurried over to her, his butler’s uniform immaculate. There was a kind of nervous energy about him that concerned Luce. ‘There’s someone outside for you. Asked for you by name.’</p><p>Luce’s brow furrowed. She couldn’t think of anyone who would want to see her, least of all during this. ‘Did they give a name?’</p><p>The man shook his head apologetically. ‘Do you want me to take the baby?’</p><p>Luce contemplated the stranger for a moment, glanced around the room and noticed that everyone was busy. She wondered if she should pass him off to someone else, but a glance at Charlie revealed him to be asleep.</p><p>She shook her head. ‘I’ve got him,’ she said, before motioning for the man to lead the way.</p><p>There was a moment of hesitation, an indecision that she didn’t understand, before he bowed his head a lead the way outside.</p><p>The sunshine was bright, despite the gentle breeze. And yet, despite everything, despite the fact she could see butterflies dancing around the garden, a sudden feeling of doubt crept up Luce’s back. All the meetings were happening inside. If someone wanted to see her outside, it couldn’t be positive. And yet, when she glanced back over her shoulder, the butler was standing in her way.</p><p>‘Sorry, I left my glasses,’ she lied, but the man still didn’t budge.</p><p>‘Miss Turner,’ a silky voice said, causing her to jump. Charlie stirred in her arms, but didn’t wake. She only knew the man to be a priest because of his dog collar; but it did nothing to ease her concerns. ‘Mr. Shelby asked me to take young Charles.’</p><p>Instinctively, Luce’s grip on the toddler tightened. ‘Sorry,’ she said, fighting to keep her voice even, despite knowing this was it, this was the thing that had been planned. Though, perhaps not necessarily with her involved. ‘I’ve got a meeting.’ She tried to step around him, but the priest stood in her way. The smile on his face was too bright, too slimy.</p><p>‘Is it any place for a child?’</p><p>Luce raised her chin. ‘I’m taking Charlie to the stables.’</p><p>The priest quirked an eyebrow.</p><p>A hand gripped her arm, another snaked around her mouth to stop the shout of protest.</p><p>Hands grabbed at Charlie, and despite her best efforts she let go of him. She kicked out at the person behind her, clawed at their hand.</p><p>Charlie started screaming, awake now that he’d been pulled away from his current place to sleep.</p><p>The priest’s expression darkened. ‘Bring the girl,’ he said, allowing the squirming Charlie back into her arms, instantly preventing her from fighting.</p><p>Luce clung to Charlie with one arm, felt him relaxing against her once more. Her other hand she used to try prying the man’s hand from her mouth. The sight of a gun, the almost casual way another man held it, stopped her in an instant though.</p><p>‘You do anything to alert the Shelbys, to stop this, and he will shoot,’ the priest promised.</p><p>Luce’s heart thundered. Her thoughts swirled as she tried desperately to think of a way out of this. But there was nothing. Especially not with Charlie in her arms.</p><p>‘Do you understand?’ the priest asked. The barrel of the gun pressed gently against her temple.</p><p>Defiance burnt inside her chest, and yet Luce found herself nodding.</p><p>‘A single peep,’ the priest said, ‘and little Charles will be all alone.’</p><p>Slowly, cautiously, the hand on her mouth was removed. Someone pushed her hard between the shoulders, encouraging her towards the car that she hadn’t noticed.</p><p>It took all her self-control not to look over her shoulder, not to will someone to notice that they were missing.</p><p>Or at least, that Charlie was nowhere to be seen.</p><p>***</p><p>Stan idly tapped his pencil against the table. His thoughts were far from the revision he was trying to do, and for once they were back home. Ada had gone for the opening of the orphanage, but Stan hadn’t been able to. An exam stood in his way, and after all the other time he’d missed heading back home, it hadn’t felt right.</p><p>‘Will you stop?’ Lia’s voice broke into this thoughts. She was sitting on the sofa, a large book from Ada’s collection open on the arm beside her. He had no idea what had drawn her to the book – or why in fact she had accepted his vague invitation to come over – but he was grateful not to be alone.</p><p>With more care than strictly necessary, Stan put the pencil in his book and shifted in his seat so he was facing her. Lia wasn’t even looking at him, her attention skimming quickly down the page. Her hair was tucked into a neat ponytail at the base of her head; from where he was sitting it almost looked as though she didn’t have hair.</p><p>‘Why did you want to be a doctor?’ he asked.</p><p>Lia’s brows furrowed ever so slightly, an indication that she’d heard his question but was waiting for a convenient point to answer it.</p><p>After a few seconds, she turned the page and looked towards him. ‘Because people didn’t think I could,’ she answered simply. ‘So many people said it was a man’s profession. If that was so, why’d they open a university for women?’ She lent forwards on the arm of the sofa, making the book creak ever so slightly. ‘Why’d you?’</p><p>‘I wanted to help people,’ he admitted. ‘Most of my family thought I was going to work with animals.’</p><p>‘Why not both?’ she challenged.</p><p>Stan opened his mouth to answer, but the words wouldn’t come. He didn’t want to admit to her that he saw some of the destruction his brothers caused and thought this might just help balance the scales. If he could save lives it might just make up for what they did in some way. When he’d discussed it with Luce she’d also reminded him that then working with animals could be a hobby, not a job. He’d liked that idea, but it wasn’t a subject he was truly prepared to broach with Lia just yet.</p><p>‘Maybe when I’ve learnt all this,’ he said, waving a hand at the books splayed across the table.</p><p>Lia offered him a slight shrug and they lapsed back into a comfortable silence.</p><p>One that was shattered by the ringing of the phone. Stan stood, picked it up and started to greet them with Ada’s phone number. Only he got partway through before Michael’s voice cut in.</p><p>‘Luce is gone, Stan.’</p><p>The world shifted beneath Stan’s feet. ‘What?’</p><p>‘Not on an adventure,’ Michael said, voice even but cracking ever so slightly. ‘Someone’s got her and Charlie.’</p><p>‘How?’ Stan asked in a strangled whisper. He was vaguely aware of Lia standing, of her hand on his shoulder as if it might somehow steady him.</p><p>Michael let out a breath. ‘Working on it,’ he said, back in control once more. ‘I thought you should know.’</p><p>‘I –’ Stan started, but his cousin had already hung up, probably rallying with the rest of the family. The call had been a curtesy, something that none of the others would have thought to do; they wouldn’t have wanted to worry him. But it was also a message. A warning in case things went wrong; a call to arms of its own for when they got her back.</p><p>Stan only realised that his knees were weak when Lia gently pushed him back into a chair.</p><p>‘Speak to me, Stanley,’ she said, voice bedside soft.</p><p>‘I have to go,’ he said, voice hollow as the blood thundered in his ears. This couldn’t be happening. Not again, not to Luce. None of this was meant to happen to her. She wasn’t meant to be involved in any of the gang stuff.</p><p>Then again, neither was Charlie.</p><p>‘Shit,’ he cursed, dropping his head into his hands.</p><p>Lia gently rubbed his back. ‘Let’s go then,’ she said with enough conviction that he looked up at her.</p><p>He started shaking his head, he wouldn’t drag her into his family mess as well, but she cut him off with a stern look.</p><p>‘You think I’m letting you go out alone when you look like you’re going to faint, you’ve got another thing coming,’ she warned him, and there was no room for argument in her voice.</p><p>Stan glanced at the phone, willing it to ring, willing Luce to call and tell him that Michael was just being an irritant. But it didn’t, and he didn’t have it in him to call back, to call anyone to check.</p><p>Instead he nodded, got cautiously to his feet and looked towards Lia. ‘I need to go to Birmingham.’</p><p>She shrugged as if it was no consequence to her, but he saw the flicker of surprise behind her eyes. ‘Does this mean I get to meet that redhead of yours?’</p><p>Stan’s chest tightened; he forced himself to smile, praying that she might be back with the others by the time they finally reached home. ‘I really hope so, Lia. I really hope so.’</p><p>***</p><p>‘We’re going to get them back,’ Hal vowed, holding onto Cece’s hands tightly. He didn’t know if he was clinging to her or the other way around, but it didn’t matter. They both needed this, needed the conviction that his words held even if the uncertainty was eating away at him. While everyone else had gone straight to the shop to wait for a call, a message of what they needed to do, Hal had taken Cece to Jessie’s house. Now, they stood outside in the rain, making promises that he desperately hoped they’d be able to keep.</p><p>Cece opened her mouth, and from the look of horror behind her eyes he knew that the thought circling his mind had formed in her own. Luce was an accident. They’d been trying to get Charlie, to use him as leverage. And that meant –</p><p>Jessie opened her door. She surveyed the two of them quickly, her brow pinched in concern. ‘What happened?’</p><p>Hal felt her eyes narrow on him accusingly and reluctantly he let go of Cece’s hands.</p><p>‘Didn’t want to be home alone,’ Cece said, her voice surprisingly even.</p><p>‘Something happen?’ Still, Jessie’s icy gaze remained on Hal.</p><p>‘Jessie,’ Cece said softly, earning her friend’s attention in an instant. ‘It was the function.’</p><p>Jessie nodded, as if that explained everything, before stepping aside.</p><p>Cece turned to Hal, pressed a desperate kiss to his lips. She pulled back slightly, her hands on his wrists. ‘Bring them home,’ she whispered before moving away from him and making a beeline for Jessie’s door. Her friend allowed her to enter, briefly rubbing her back as Cece turned to face him.</p><p>Hal nodded once, his resolve set, before he stalked off into the night, determined to bring Charlie and Luce back. Whatever it took.</p><p>***</p><p>Luce gently toyed with Charles’ hand. Every fibre of her being yelled at her to fight. It screamed for her to do something that might just get the both of them out of there. And yet, she couldn’t. Her head was pounding; after she’d been tucked into the car something with a cloying smell had been forced over her nose and mouth. Whatever it was had knocked her out, and when she’d come to she was sat in a room with very little furniture, her wrists bound and Charlie sitting nearby, fisting a handful of her dress as if making sure that they stayed together.</p><p>If it was just her, then maybe she would have risked fighting. Maybe she could have fashioned something, the ropes binding her wrists be damned, that could be used to threaten her way out of there if necessary. But not with Charles’ wellbeing hanging in the balance as well.</p><p>A door outside closed, and Luce’s back straightened. Charles’s grip on her fingers tightened, as if he could sense her own unease about the whole thing.</p><p>Footsteps, sure and even, echoed around the chamber outside. The key was put in the lock, the door opened. Hughes, as the priest had introduced himself to Charlie, stood there for a moment, eyes narrowed on their linked hands.</p><p>‘Let go of him,’ he said, a saccharine smile on his face.</p><p>Luce merely glared at him as she clung to Charlie a little tighter.</p><p>The priest’s smile turned sour. ‘I said, let go.’</p><p>There was something sinister about that smile that raised her hackles. A priest who was willing to kidnap a baby wasn’t someone she wanted to leave Charlie alone with, not for a second. If she refused to do as he said, she knew that it was her that would take the punishment. After all, for him she’d outlived her usefulness as soon as they were away from the function, as soon as there was no one to hear Charlie’s desperate cries. The thought terrified her, but not nearly as much as leaving Charlie alone with that monster did.</p><p> Luce swallowed the lump that formed in her throat and eased her fingers out of Charles’ grip.</p><p>‘Step over there.’ Hughes nodded to the back corner, far away from both the door and Charles.</p><p>Protest bubbled up inside of her, and yet she squashed it. With her chin jutted up in defiance, she stepped away. She saw the crease of distress on Charlie’s brows, and yet buried her need to go over to him. Still she didn’t allow herself to relax. The slightest misgivings and she’d be over there, the repercussions be damned.</p><p>She watched, trailed Hughes’ steps, as he walked into the room. He completely ignored her from that moment on; at least he seemed to.</p><p>‘Ah, hello, there,’ he greeted Charles softly, crouching before the baby. ‘Here you go. How’s that?’ He passed Charles a piece of bread before holding up a piece of cutlery. ‘You like a spoon? A shiny spoon? Do you want to hold the spoon there?’</p><p>Charles took the spoon and gently pressed it against his leg, as if testing it out. A smile curled Hughes’ lips and sent a cold shiver down Luce’s spine. The sooner she could think a way out of all this, the better.</p><p>***</p><p>‘Henry!’ Tommy’s voice was sharp as he strode away from the shop. He looked wrecked, and Hal couldn’t blame him. After everything else that had happened this year, this was taking the piss. And yet, as they drew closer Hal could see that the anger in his friend was the worst of it. ‘What did you do?’</p><p>Startled by the accusation, Hal paused. ‘What did I do?’</p><p>‘Was it Cece? Someone let them into the function. Someone knew everything.’</p><p>Hal balled his hands tightly by his sides. This was desperation talking, the fear of everything that had happened.</p><p>‘She doesn’t know anything about this,’ Hal said, forcing his voice even.</p><p>Tommy’s eyes were filled with anger though. ‘Bit strange that she comes to the function and someone takes my fucking boy,’ he spat.</p><p>Hal inhaled deeply, forced himself not to bow to his own anger. ‘I’m going to ignore you, Tom,’ he said simply, ‘because they took your boy. Or are you going to blame Luce next?’</p><p>Tommy’s jaw worked, and for a moment Hal honestly thought that he was going to argue that point, that he’d blame her links to the Italians. But he couldn’t. After all, he’d been the one to ask her to look after Charles; it was something that neither of them took lightly.</p><p>He exhaled slowly, as if exorcising himself of the demons that had caused him to shout, to blame Hal. Hal absently wondered how bad the others had got it, knowing that this was only the lingering emotion rather than the whole storm.</p><p>‘Stay in the shop,’ Tommy said. ‘I’ve got something to do.’</p><p>‘What about looking?’</p><p>‘It’s covered,’ Tommy dismissed readily. ‘Stay here, make sure they don’t try anything.’</p><p>Hal opened his mouth to question, but Tommy was already hurrying towards his car.</p><p>Hal stood there and watched him go before heading into the shop, wondering what might be waiting for him inside.</p><p>***</p><p>Charles whimpered, his attention on the spoon; Luce knew that he was probably looking for a saucepan, something to make noise with as was a game they’d previously played. Part of her wanted to tell Hughes, make him let his guard down to keep the toddler entertained. She could use it, if necessary.</p><p>The thought died as something caught Luce’s attention. A noise, the sound of a footstep. Hughes noticed it as well, his attention snapping to the door in an instant. And then, he shot a bitter look her way.</p><p>‘Not a fucking word,’ he threatened.      </p><p>Luce bit her tongue, desperate not to scold him for swearing around Charlie. It would’ve been petty really, given how much crass language he heard in general.</p><p>The priest moved, and Luce heard a gun cocking. In an instant, she was on the floor, shielding Charles. Someone was panting outside, a moment of indecision.</p><p>‘What do you think you are doing, boy?’ Hughes spat.</p><p>There was a moment, a moment where Luce glanced towards Charles and fought to make a decision. Did she sit idly by, waiting for whatever came next, or did she do something?</p><p>The decision was easy. Luce listened to Charles gargling, making noises that part of her desperately wanted to quell, and shifted towards the wall. She just needed her hands free, needed to be able to fight if it came to it.</p><p>‘Please don’t,’ came Hughes’ voice. Whatever could induce that much fear in a monster of his standing, Luce didn’t dare think about. ‘Please don’t shoot. Please don’t shoot.’</p><p>Luce forced herself to drown the noises out, to focus on the motion of trying to cut the rope with the wall. Or at least, to loosen it enough that she could undo the knot with her teeth. She didn’t know if it would work, but it was the best she had.</p><p>A shot exploded. Something clattered to the floor. Luce dropped her hands and instead edged closer towards the door. Her heart hammered like a jackrabbit in her chest; blood pounded in her ears, threatened to drown everything else out.</p><p>Someone grunted.</p><p>‘Little brat,’ cursed Hughes, and Luce’s blood turned to ice.</p><p>She heard the fight as if it was happening a long way away. There was something there, something familiar that she couldn’t turn her back on. Panic seeped into her chest, made it difficult to breath. She felt the sting of tears, the feeling of hope for escape turning sour.</p><p>Without thinking, Luce stepped out of the little room. She heard Charlie crying softly, his confusion at the whole thing as prominent as her own.</p><p>Hughes had Michael by the throat. ‘You’re a gypsy bastard,’ he snarled.</p><p>Michael shifted. Hughes screamed as he backed away, hand held up to his eye. He stumbled away from Michael, towards the cell. Luce kicked at his ankles; sending one foot knocking into the other as Michael let out a yell. His eyes drifted to her momentarily before he stalked closer to Hughes.</p><p>Luce’s heart beat out a tattoo against her chest. She stumbled away from the scene, caught between the desire to stop the violence and to protect Charlie. The latter won out, and she fell to her knees in front of the toddler.</p><p>‘It’s all right,’ she whispered, her hands shaking terribly as she gently brushed her knuckles against his forehead. ‘It’s going to be all right.’</p><p>‘Get up!’ ordered Michael.</p><p>‘I’ll take him!’ Another voice, unfamiliar and yet Luce didn’t care. Her attention was on the baby, the baby who’d been brought into all of this simply because of who his father was.</p><p>She tried not to think of Sylvain.</p><p>‘This bastard’s mine,’ barked Michael. ‘Go call Finn.’</p><p>‘It’ll be all right,’ she said, ignoring the sounds from beyond the door. ‘It’ll all be all right.’ She felt the first of the warm tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘You wait here,’ she said softly as the room outside fell ominously quiet.</p><p>She took a breath before daring to walk towards the door. She hovered at the corner, not sure she wanted to see what lay beyond, then she stepped into the doorway.</p><p>Hughes was on the floor, his throat slit and blood beginning to pool around him. For once she felt almost nothing. Instead, she kept looking, searched Michael out in the hopes that she might not be seeing another body, might not have to tell someone bad news.</p><p>He was crouched by the wall, blood splatted up his face.</p><p>‘Michael?’ she asked tentatively. He looked like a deer caught in the sight of a gun.</p><p>‘It’s all right,’ he said, his attention snapping up to her in an instant, eyes almost as wide as saucers.</p><p>Behind her, Charlie cooed. He threw a piece of wood so that it clattered to the floor ahead of her.</p><p>‘It’s all right,’ she breathed, scrubbing her arm across her cheek as she eased herself to the level of the others, tried vaguely to block Charlie’s view of the body. Her words felt hollow though. How could any of this be all right?</p><p>***</p><p>Stan felt sick. He’d knotted and unknotted the handkerchief Ada had silently passed him so many times, he could feel the rivets of it in his hands, indented there as if they may never fully be removed. Lia hovered by his shoulder, not knowing what to do. Ada had tried to welcome the young woman, but it had all been in vain. None of them were buying the false cheer. Eventually she had given up, simply left Lia standing a silent guard for Stan. Only Polly had mentioned Michael’s name, as if knowing that it was because of him Stan was there.</p><p>The door opened, and he was standing in an instant. Luce’s hair was dark, limper than normal but the familiar fiery red that made her stand out was a blessing. Michael walked a little behind her, eyes haunted and yet shut off enough that none of them dare broach the subject of what had happened.</p><p>Ada was with them a moment later, removing Charles from Luce’s grip before he was crushed in the hug Stan pulled his best friend into. He was vaguely aware of Charles’ crying; of Polly going to check on Michael. But he didn’t really care. All he could think about was Luce, holding her close even though part of him was vaguely aware that she might just shatter. She’d never felt so small.</p><p>Hal was the only one to remain completely still, surveying the whole scene silently.</p><p>‘You’re all right,’ Stan murmured against the top of her head. ‘You’re all right.’</p><p>She shook her head against his chest, gripped the back of his shirt as if to pull him even closer, but didn’t say anything.</p><p>The sound of the kettle gently whistling on the stove pulled Stan’s attention that way. Lia stood there, expression calm as she surveyed the little scene.</p><p>Luce pulled away from Stan ever so slightly, her hands still clinging to him though as if afraid that he might disappear if  she didn’t. ‘Who’s that?’ she asked, voice barely more than a whisper.</p><p>‘Aurellia Carter,’ Lia introduced, a small smile on her lips. ‘You must be Luce.’</p><p>‘Lia?’ Luce unwound her arms from Stan and shifted to stand beside him, close enough that he could still feel the dampness of her clothes.</p><p>The sound of the door opening and shutting caught Stan’s attention, but he didn’t look around. He didn’t even look around at the sound of Ada talking on the phone. Instead he focused on Luce and Lia.</p><p>‘Nice to meet ya,’ said Lia earnestly. ‘Just wish it’d been a better day for it.’</p><p>Luce scoffed softly. ‘Never a good day for it around here,’ she muttered, before smiling. ‘Stan’s told us all about you.’</p><p>A small smirk curled Lia’s lips as Luce moved towards her. Stan desperately wanted to talk to her, to check in with Luce after everything that had happened, but he knew that she needed this. She needed the distraction of someone new, of something different, at least for a little while. And he was willing to give her that space for a while, knowing that he’d be there when she needed him.</p><p>***</p><p>Hal entered the office behind Luce. The girl still looked as though she’d seen a ghost, and the only reason she was even there was because Tommy had said something about the accounting. Cece and Stanley had both tried to argue the point, but a mute Luce had shook her head. Something told Hal she needed to be there, and he wasn’t about to let her do that alone. Even if he’d been invited to the meeting as well, he’d be keeping close to her, making sure she was all right – as much for their peace of mind as his own. The others were with Charlie, and yet still there was a glimmer of irritation behind their countenances at the whole thing. Only Lia had left in the morning, determined to cover for Stan despite his protests.</p><p>Tommy sat at his desk, hands splayed across the wood and attention on the table. Hal sat beside Polly, just in front of Luce, who had taken refuge beside Isaiah and Charlie. Hal didn’t look around, but he guessed she had her hands clasped between her knees, not allowing Isaiah to provide her with the comfort Hal knew he’d wanted to.</p><p>‘Before I begin,’ said Tommy, voice low and attention still not raising to see the rest of the family, ‘I want to let you know I made a mistake.’ The shock rippled around the room was almost palpable. Hal’s gaze followed Tommy as he stood, unable to look away now the admittance had passed his lips. ‘I made a mistake and I want to apologise to all of ya.’ Now he looked around, addressing each of them as he made his apologies.</p><p>‘Arthur, you warned me against getting involved in Russian business. And you were right,’ Tommy said, his attention back on the desk as he spoke; Arthur made a dull sound of acknowledgement. ‘I doubted your wife. For that I’m sorry. Linda, I’ve added three-thousand here in the hope that you’ll forgive me.’ He dropped the money on the table.</p><p>Linda stood, walked to the desk and picked up the wad of cash. ‘Apology accepted.’</p><p>‘Esme, I doubted you as well,’ Tommy admitted, looking towards the woman as he spoke. Hal got a sense of foreboding running down his back. A shiver of unease that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. But he’d learnt long ago never to ignore the feelings like that. He forced himself not to look to the others, to keep watching Tommy in the hopes that he might learn something. Not that he expected it.</p><p>‘Now John’s got innocent lives on his conscience,’ Esme said bitterly. ‘Ordinary working men –’</p><p>‘Yeah, all right, Esme. Got it,’ said John quickly, before she could go any further.</p><p>‘No, she’s right,’ said Tommy, and there was a strange kind of weariness behind his voice. ‘And you and Arthur are gonna have to share that burden. But I hope the house that you can buy with this can become a place of contemplation.’ Tommy dropped more money on the table. He opened his arms in a gesture of something like hope.</p><p>‘Buying people out,’ murmured Luce, voice so low Hal only heard it because he was close enough; it was covered by the sound of John’s chair scraping against the floor as he stood.</p><p>‘Perhaps redemption,’ said Tommy.</p><p>John stood, took the money and then sat back down again with a slight <em>thump</em>.</p><p>‘Charlie, for lost tools, dangerous goods, and Curly’s wise words,’ continued Tommy as he threw the money to the man. ‘Johnny, for board and lodgings. Lizzie.’ He put the money at the end of the desk.</p><p>Lizzie, however, took it and rolled it forcefully back at him.</p><p>Tommy took pause for a moment, as if accepting the reaction, before continuing as if it hadn’t not gone his way. ‘Michael, for the killings.’ He slammed the money on the table. ‘Five for the cutting and five for the shooting.’</p><p>‘No, Tommy!’ snapped Polly, shooting to her feet.</p><p>‘What?’ yelled Tommy. ‘Tell me, eh! This is who I am! And this is all I can give you for what you give me. Your hearts and your souls. Yesterday I nearly lost my son. You should fucking understand that.’ Tommy’s voice broke ever so slightly, but he controlled that particular emotion as he pointed in Polly’s face. ‘For what, eh? For what? For this? For this?’ Tommy pointed to the rolls of money on the desk, to the house that they were all sat in, and chuckled. ‘And I know you all want to say that I’ll change. That this fucking business will change. But I’ve learnt something in the last few days. Those bastards, those bastards are worse than us! Politicians, fucking judges, Lords and Ladies. They are worse than us. And they will never admit us to their palaces no matter how legitimate we become. Because of who we are. Because of who we fucking are, because of where we’re fucking from. Isn’t that right, Ada?’</p><p>Ada remained resolutely silent; not that Tommy gave her much chance to answer.</p><p>‘Our Ada knows. She got smart about revolution. And she knows you have to get what you want your own way.’ He looked to her for a moment, before realising that she wasn’t going to back him up on this. So, he turned his attention elsewhere. ‘Lizzie, I want it known that money was for you because some nights it was you who stopped my heart from breaking. No one else.’</p><p>Lizzie looked away, and Hal felt the urge to try getting Tommy to just stop bubble up inside of him. But he knew that this was good for the other man; that he’d bottled all this up for far too long and this was his cathartic release. A long awaited one at that.</p><p>‘And the rest of you, you took the King’s shilling. You took the King’s fucking shilling,’ accused Tommy. ‘When you take the King’s shilling, the King expects you to kill. Right, Arthur? Yeah. That’s how it works. Right, John?’</p><p>Michael stood, moved to the desk and collected his money. ‘That’s right,’ he said, his mouth close to his mother as if making sure that she understood this was his decision. As if there was any room for misinterpreting the situation.</p><p>‘That’s right, Pol,’ said Tommy, as if oblivious to the tension hanging like a thick smog in the room. Either that, or enjoying the power that came with causing it.</p><p>‘That’s fucking right,’ he said, looking directly at her, hands tucked neatly into pockets.</p><p>Polly shook her head almost imperceptibly. ‘Tommy, you’ve had a bad time. We understand. So at an alternative time,’ – she moved to take the money from Michael’s lap – ‘when we have all recovered, I would like to put before the family an alternative view of the future of the Shelby Company Limited.’ Tommy bowed his head ever so slightly. ‘A more hopeful view.’</p><p>A baby started crying, and Hal forced himself to keep his attention on Tommy, to try gauging his reaction to the whole thing.</p><p>‘Which I, for one, would quite like to hear,’ said Ada simply.</p><p>‘Me too,’ murmured Luce, and Hal’s hackles raised ever so slightly.</p><p>‘As would I,’ said Esme, disrupting the crying child with the shifting of her chair.</p><p>‘As would I,’ agreed Lizzie.</p><p>Tommy looked to the sky, as if praying for some kind of strength.</p><p>‘Come on, Arthur,’ said Linda as Polly sat back down. ‘The train for the dock leaves in one hour.’ She stood close behind him, like an angel on his shoulder. ‘Then we get the boat to New York and it’ll all be in the past.’</p><p>Arthur’s attention remained on Tommy, even as Polly moved in front of him, as she kissed him on the cheek.</p><p>Tommy sat, and a moment later Arthur stood, as did everyone else. Hal remained rooted to his seat though, waiting to see what would happen next. His stomach was knotted. He still had no idea what was making him so uncomfortable. </p><p>‘Hal?’ asked Luce, a careful hand on his shoulder, snapping him to attention as John and Arthur patted each other on the arms; as Arthur moved to be in front of Tommy.</p><p>‘I’ll be off then, er, Tom,’ he said, and Hal could hear the catch of uncertainty behind his voice. Still, his eyes were on Tommy. On the way he was sat almost lounging in the chair, smoking a cigarette and not looking at any of those before him. ‘I’ll see ya, eh?’ Arthur persisted. ‘I’ll see ya, brother.’</p><p>He snuffled, nodded at Polly, shot a half-hearted wink to Hal before punching Finn on the arm. ‘Bye, Curly. Luce.’</p><p>‘You can go,’ said Tommy, still not looking up, ‘but you won’t get far, Arthur.’</p><p>‘Uh… All right, Tom,’ said Arthur, not quite sure what to make of the ominous parting call.</p><p>‘I  spoke to Moss last night,’ admitted Tommy, and Hal felt his insides turn to ice. <em>What now? </em>‘He told me that the Chief Constable of Birmingham has issued a warrant for your arrest. Murder, sedition, conspiracy to cause explosion.’</p><p>The whole room felt as though it were tilting uncontrollably.</p><p>‘John, they’re coming for you as well. Murder, conspiracy to cause explosion. Michael –’</p><p>‘What the fuck?’ asked Arthur.</p><p>‘- for the murder of Hughes,’ Tommy went on, as if there hadn’t been any interruption. ‘Polly…’</p><p>‘Wait a minute,’ demanded Arthur. ‘What the fuck are you talking –?’</p><p>‘- the murder of Chief Inspector Chester Campbell.’</p><p>The room erupted into noise, into a confusion of questions.</p><p>‘Hal, they want you for the murder of Alfonsi; the Italians have a man.’</p><p>Hal glanced over his shoulder, as if he might be able to get away. Perhaps he could warn Cece, get her out of there as quickly as possible so she didn’t have to see any of this.</p><p>‘The people that we betrayed last night, they want to bring us down,’ announced Tommy, finally standing. ‘They control the police, they control the judges, they control the juries, they control the jails.’</p><p>Far off, Hal heard the sharp sound of a policeman’s tinny whistle. His insides were roiling with the implication. Everything he’d planned with Cece, the time they’d taken. It was too late.</p><p>‘But they do not,’ said Tommy, voice louder and determined to cut through the chaos that was filling the room, ‘control the elected government. Listen to me!’</p><p>‘Why didn’t you tell us before?’ yelled John.</p><p>‘You are my brother!’</p><p>‘Listen to me,’ said Tommy, his hand in Arthur’s face, his gaze skimming to Hal who was still rooted to the spot. ‘So I have made a deal –’</p><p>‘They’ll hang us!’ Arthur’s face was red with rage and fear.</p><p>‘- in return for giving evidence against them.’</p><p>‘We’ll fucking hang,’ spat Arthur.</p><p>‘It’s all taken care of,’ said Tommy, voice calm. But rising to meet the tensions of the room. ‘Lizzie, collect up the money and bring it to the cellar. You will all get your money in due course.’</p><p>‘Hal,’ said Luce, hand on his wrist, bringing him back to the moment. There were tears in her eyes, and he knew that she was doing the one thing he didn’t want her to do. Especially not now.</p><p>He shifted, gave her hand a soft squeeze. ‘I’d do it again in a heartbeat,’ he assured her, hoping that she could see the conviction in his eyes, even as his own fears were rising to the surface.</p><p>He didn’t regret taking out Alfonsi.</p><p>‘… you do not say anything,’ Tommy was saying when Hal turned to face him again. Tommy almost looked resigned, as if this was all breaking him once more.</p><p>Hal nodded, tried to force the calm about him that had always got him into more trouble with his father. Which had forced him to take the brunt of attacks. He mentally made his apologies to Cece, hoped that she’d understand. Knew that she wouldn’t though.</p><p>Unless Luce explained.</p><p>Instantly he turned back to her. ‘I’ll tell Cecily, just… give her my love,’ he murmured, his attention shifting to Isaiah over her shoulder, to the tense lines of his face. ‘Look after each other. And Stan.’</p><p>‘Hal,’ Luce started, but he merely shook his head and headed out of the office, resining himself to the fate that Tommy had set in motion for them. Already he could hear the chaos of outside, already knew that Cece would fight like a spitting cat if nobody stopped her. He really hoped that they’d look out for each other.</p><p>Hal was barely out of the room before an officer pushed him against a wall. A truncheon held to his throat. He offered his wrists out willingly, but nobody seemed to be taking any notice.</p><p>‘You bastard, Thomas,’ spat Cece, holding Luce close to her.</p><p>The officer holding Hal turned him to the wall, forced cuffs around his wrists and then hauled him out of the door.</p><p>For once, Hal really had no idea how Tommy was going to pull this one off. He just prayed that he would. For all their sakes.</p>
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